Our first child was born in early November. She was a gorgeous baby, with round pink cheeks, wide blue eyes and a soft downy fuzz of golden-reddish hair that soon turned to blonde curls. I remember walking through the neighborhood with my precious newborn strapped to my chest or snoozing in her baby carriage (yes, a real carriage, with big wheels and a hood). Here in Zone 7, the last roses of the year were still blooming. I remember stopping with the baby carriage to pick a white blossom, marveling at its presence so late in the fall and feeling its silken petals, which were no softer or more delicately shaded than my tiny daughter’s skin.

And now that daughter is a beautiful young lady, in the full bloom of young womanhood, blossoming in her mind, education and pursuits as we have always dreamed she would. A few late roses still bloom in our neighborhood during her birth month, their scent joining the fragrance of autumn air, fires newly lit in hearths, the  wet earth soaked through from autumn rains and covered with fallen, colorful leaves that add their own scent.

I love rose fragrances, and I have learned so much about so many, and I’ll write about them soon, but this Fragrance Friday is all about my girl, my autumn rose.

Photo: Anne Geddes.