Dewdrops

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The morning after a rainy night in winter.

Ichor of heaven, dewdrops. Sometimes I say silly things out loud to myself. That phrase implies that Greek gods have been awfully busy spilling their immortal lifeblood.

Even though this rose photographed a month ago is beautiful, it was not only dew that its petals received, but a thorough drenching from the thunderstorms the night before.

We were treated to another heavy rain last night. This morning, every living thing is bedecked with ichor. This is because ridges and grooves make up their texture. When searching for a fragment of a poem, I alighted instead on what chemists in Japan saw when they examined rose petals under a microscope.

Many people have an unscientific view of causality, whether they are conscious of it or not. It goes like this: Shortly after giving your car its first good wash and polish in months, it will rain. So, is it sillier for me to look at my still gleaming but wet car this morning and say “no wonder it rained last night”, or to have fanciful thoughts about Greek gods when examining roses close up?

©2017 Allison Wright

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