Stop and smell the roses

I went for a walk today with a friend in the Thornden Park Rose Garden.  I am not a gardener, I don't have a green thumb.  But, walking under the flowered arches was achingly beautiful.  My friend was fascinated by the identifying markers for each rose bush.  He puzzled over the names, the dates, the description of the type--multiflora, tea, climbing...Walking the paths was like walking a labyrinth.  Bill's dementia forced us to focus only on what was immediately in front of us, every turn brought a new gasp of delight as if we were seeing each plant for the first time.  Each time a name was read we wondered about its origin.  Fourth of July?  Did the rose look like the red and white of the flag or fireworks exploding in the night sky?  Headliner?     Was that a show off rose?  Gold Medal?  A beautiful yellow.  The sky was a perfect blue background for the colors.  The breeze made sure we were surrounded by scent. Sometimes remembering isn't needed. Sometimes just being present is all you need to do.