Yellow Roses

I didn’t know which flowers are my favourite until this morning, when I went to Lidl for a sweet potato and a bag of kale.

That's how my life has been: an existence without flowers. Or with them very incidentally. Just the two occasions in my life when I’ve received them or when my other half bought a bunch. Grey and colourless days of mine. Now I have a story to tell my grandchildren. The first time I bought yellow roses was after seeing a man pushing a trolley where the flowers outshone a few packets of Nesquik. 

“His eye lit on a cluster of yellow roses. He had never seen any as sun-golden before, and his first impulse was to send them to May instead of the lilies. But they did not look like her—there was something too rich, too strong, in their fiery beauty.” (Edith Wharton, The Age of Innocence)