Barely Blooming

Tank: c/o Aeropostale; Jeans: Gap; Fleece: Mountain Hardwear; Flats: Gap (on sale!); Bag: GiGi New York

Ben took me on an afternoon picnic to the rose garden. We laid out our plaid blanket and ate roast chicken, blue cheese, broccoli, and french bread with sparkling lemonade as the sun set over Portland just down the hill. The skyscrapers reflected patches of light and the distance between us and downtown left only silence and beautiful hedges and roses waiting to bloom.

We were hoping to catch the roses in full-bloom but it's still a bit early. There were some rows of roses that were absolutely insane - massive pink blossoms reaching upward as if to clamor for the sun's precious rays. And some sat quiet and dormant, not a bud to be seen. By late summer the garden will be a rainbow of colors and smells and packed with people reading the names of the roses off of placards - "Orange Sunrise" and "Dusky Rose" to themselves as they stroll. It will be full of people stooping down to smell flowers, posing for photos amongst the rows of blossoms. It'll be decorated with weddings and with engagement photos, with senior portraits and news vehicles featuring stories backdropped by roses. 

But today, it was all quiet. The sun set slowly, leaving a bit of nip in the air. There were a few people wandering about the blooming rhododendron hedges and some late picnickers. But mostly, it was us and some pretty roses begging to be admired. It's hard not to fall in love with Portland in late evenings when all its blooms close for the night and everyone just hushes, to feel the city come to a slow and lazy halt for a few precious hours.