what I notice is missing

Last week, I bought roses so I could have a fresh bouquet in my house for a guest. They were very pretty, pink and white in this case. With some ferns and baby’s breath, they made a welcoming sight. But they had little to no fragrance which is something roses are known for. I bought them at the florist in the local supermarket, not a nursery, but that shouldn’t be the reason why – should it?

I love this time of year because it’s between very cold and very hot, so I sleep with the windows open. Sometimes I run the ceiling fan. Perfect sleeping conditions, I think. In past years, the wrens and robins and a mockingbird would start their singing at about 3:30 a.m.  about two hours before dawn which I never minded too much, but they are not there this year. Like the aroma of cut roses, the birdsong has diminished to almost nil.

I’m missing the milkweed of my childhood and the monarch butterflies so attracted to it. I’m missing the bees in the sweet honeysuckle rambling along the roadside. The dogwoods that bloomed in the spring all along the state routes and the parkways are long gone due to some disease that killed most of them years ago. Tomatoes don’t taste like anything unless it’s the dead of summer and you find a good one at a farmer’s market.

Life changes; I get that. For reasons known and unknown, for causes direct and indirect, change happens. And then, for the same reasons and causes, things change again, and sometimes what was missing returns.

I’m just noticing some of the things that are gone, and I’m missing them.

© 2025 www.megreilly.com

6/16/25