Transient

This is the solo rose from the plant outside my back door. It reached this transient perfection in yesterday's sun, and when the rain of today threatened to saturate and spoil it I cut it and brought it indoors where we could enjoy it. I always hesitate to cut a flower like this, but when the weather is so foul it's a no-brainer. Many a flower is born to blush unseen, and waste its sweetness on the desert air - but not this one.

I've just been watching footage of people all over the world leaving flowers in acknowledgement of those who died in Nice last night; I've also been thinking of all the young men who died equally tragically in the battle of Delville Wood, on the Somme, a hundred years ago today. 

For all of them, this rose, as transient as life itself.