Some time ago, walking in Hampstead Village on a lazy afternoon, I sighted some little things and brought them home with me.
The first was a little rose plant with five blossoms in a tender pale cream with pink undertones – one of my favourite flower colours. Weeks into her new stay, the rose was rehoused in a larger green pot and unexpectedly (I by no means have a green thumb) thrived fairly well on the little place by the window. In recent days, the last of its blossoms, it was the tiniest one, surprised and showed us its beautiful heart in a shade of pale antique pink. As nothing lasts, although we wish so, I took a few pictures of my little rose, hoping to capture its tender appearance in an immutable form. Rationally, I am aware that it is a futile exercise, because change is a constant that we ought to accept as natural and even embrace. Following this first theme, my mind brought back Nick Cave’s ‘Where the Wild Roses Grow‘, inspired by the traditional song ‘Down in the Willow Garden’; his music has a fascinating mix of dark and romantic tones and I truly recommend his ‘Murder Ballads’ record. Sadly this song is about the killing of a beautiful woman.
tribute to The Little Prince and his Rose by lulii13omg, from Deviant Art
Carefully carrying my little rose around, back on that day we first met, we went on to visit a little covered vintage market. It was late in the day and some of the stalls were already packing their items. I stopped by a table with a couple of little boxes, you know those with an assorted mix of random things in them, to see what really there was inside. I carefully chose a few little curious objects, some old buttons and cuff links (?), a pin brooch, a necklace clasp, some 70s brooch, a green brush, a little metal whistle and a horn crochet hook (it must be an old one). The seller had plenty of high-end items at the stand, so I guess it was almost a relief to give away some of this no-name pieces… so I got my little shopping bag for a very inexpensive price – which is a good way to keep quiet that little voice of guilt, deep down there.
I am not sure how these little things will be put to use one day, but I enjoyed choosing them and making a place for them in a cute little box of mine. A bit silly, isn’t it?