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Re-entry after a retreat can be tough. After being very quiet for two weeks, the speed of the regular world can feel unpleasantly jangly. I’m trying to heed the advice of one of the retreat teachers and spend some time each day at the pace of trees, rocks, and plants.

This morning I ambled down to the water, and oh! the scent of roses! The wild multiflora roses have been blooming this week, soaking the atmosphere with their seductive scent.

For the other 51 weeks of the year they are a nasty nuisance, aggressively trying to take over the yard and gashing me with their vicious thorns when I try to hack them back. (The cutting only makes them more vigorous.)

But this week, their cascades of tiny white blossoms and swoon-worthy fragrance are pure, transient beauty.

Next week, they’ll be back on my enemies list, but for the moment, it’s love.