“STOP! STOP!” I yelled. Newt grudgingly pulled the Mule over. He was even less thrilled when I ran to the hot pink spots in the grass. “Really, we are stopping for a weed?”
Not a weed, but my most favoritest flower in the world- the rose. Its beauty is overwhelmed by the soft, fragrance that makes you forget all your worries.
Some call it “Prairie Rose” or “Wild Rose”. But seriously folks, we are on the prairie out in the wild range, so plain old boring “Rose” will do.
But how can this be boring? Drink it in.
I hope you find a wild rose and can enjoy the sight and perfume as much as I do!