Dear Curiosity Journal,

Summer days are busy, but the wild rose bush beckons. Her blush blossoms wait for none. To savor the scent, the softness, the elixir of her essence, I snip flowers from thorns, and petals from heads to die, to dry, for another day. I will return to them on a cooler night to brew tinctures, oils, and salves, but today, they fill my kitchen with the aroma of love.