In the warm morning sun, I stand on the rooftop listening to the sound of flowers blooming
It's not really a garden, it's just a rooftop...
For my mother-in-law and my sister-in-law, the rooftop is a place to dry clothes and quilts...
For me, it's a place to grow flowers and to daydream...
Where did the time go?
Time is right there in the blooming and fading of flowers.
Spring, for us, the most beautiful thing is that whatever has passed, good or bad, has passed. You can have new hopes, and in the new year work hard to make them come true...
The year has just begun, and in spring, everything is still possible...
Live with effort, love with effort...
Work hard to earn money, work hard to grow flowers...
On days with sunshine, your mood brightens too...
These past few days, the sunshine has been absolutely glorious, truly absolutely glorious, making you wonder if spring is about to leave and summer is coming. The temperature is between 20-25°C......
However, I've noticed that the higher the flower spike grows, the more noticeably the bulb shrinks...
It opened in the morning...
The Cyrtanthus, just about to bloom, I don't know if it will put on as spectacular a show as last year...
Maybe it will, maybe it won't...
I don't demand that it bloom in any spectacular or lively way; in the winter sunshine, so gentle and quiet, set against that patch of faintly blue sky, it is already beautiful...
The pink marguerite daisy has already become a ball...
Garden Bride...
A old song comes to mind...
The delicate youth on the shore, waiting a lifetime...
Why couldn't I become the bride you hoped for...
Several colors of trailing petunias, none of them grew into flower balls, the kind of perfectly round flower ball like a globe. Very ashamed. Because you need to keep pinching off the tips. Pinch and pinch, and I just got too lazy to pinch anymore.
Spring will pass quickly, so bloom...
PanAmerican's Wave series, Dawn Rose color...
Work hard to earn money, work hard to grow flowers. After the brilliance, there is always a return to calm...
When a flower leaves the stem, what kind of feeling must that be...
A little regret, a little reluctance to let go...
Or, a little peace of mind, a little acceptance...