A Rose Is A Rose Is A Rose

A rose under any other name would not smell as sweet....because then it wouldn't be a rose.  It's amazing the significance of such a simple flower that parts sweetly as the days go by and is so defined up close that is looks like a painting (or maybe that's just the Instagram).

Life is a series of roses.  Moments and weeks where the petals slowly expand and fall until you need to get a fresh rose new and compact waiting to experience and grow for the first time.  Each time, more exciting and fascinating than the last.

You wonder how something so simple can have such devastating and startling significance.  But then I think about this.  Staring down the open railroad track and suddenly the world is full of possibilities.

If You Believe That There's A Man On The Moon

When I was a kid, all I could hope for on my ceiling were glow in the dark stars and I didn't even get those.  I did however have a broken Teddy Ruxpin that would speak at 2AM because his tape deck was broken.  Such is the stuff of childhood nightmares.

The last time I was at The Museum of Natural History I happened upon this!  It's a Moon In My Room.  Apparently it takes you through the entire course of lunar cycles while you sleep.  Who needs to look out the window when you can stare up wide-eyed at your own miniature piece of lunar magnificence.

I feel like if I ever welcome children into this world they will not only have this but every mock piece of space age awesomeness.