Something About Pruning and Watering

We don't garden, exactly, but there's a rosebush on the septic field that produces lovely small blooms in August. 

It also gets kind of weedy, and in previous years, I've taken some pruning shears to what appeared to me to be "dead branches."

Did I know what I was doing? Nope. Did I do any research? Nah. I was just doing what was obvious. (Narrator: not so obvious.)

This year, we had little snow and (in spite of a lot of rain in June), a relatively hot and dryish summer, so our well has been iffy. On occasion, we top it up from the lake, using the pump system at the camp next door. 

This year, when I'm not actively putting water from the garden hose into the well (and no, we don't drink the well water), I've been leaving the (somewhat leaky) spray gun on the septic field. I also had the bright idea of leaving it close to the base of the rosebush.

And this has been the result!

 

In case those photos aren't clear, green leaves and some blooms are sprouting at the end of what I thought were dead branches. 

Apparently all they needed was a little water. Some TLC. Attention of the right sort.

I'm not now all inspired to grow roses (or lilacs--our bushes this year thrived on the lack of attention from deer), but I will be extra careful if I'm again inspired to "tidy up" some of the bushes around here. 

And because I love a metaphor, I'm thinking about how this applies to my writing life. As I've said, I'm on a sorta-vacation this August, still doing the business of daily living but also goofing off more. 

It's been a wonderful break--and I wonder what blooms will come from this time of watering and "attention of the right sort," come September.