"O, my luve's like a red, red rose" Robert Burns

Sunday morning Gypsy and I noticed a beautiful, large red rose blooming on the Don Juan rose bush located on the corner of her five foot high, cedar post rabbit fence. We thought it might need to be watered since our frequent rains have ceased. First, we watered our small Angel Patch flower garden, which is close to the back porch of the cabin. Gypsy's fence is seventy feet by fifty feet and attaches to the cabin, hence, completely surrounding the garden. When we go to water the rose bush, we always watch for Teddy, our resident tarantula. He lives somewhere in a dark hole, under the beautiful grass that is near the roses. We can't reach the bush with the hose,so,we water it with our old, green sprinkling can. When we were slowly pouring the water around the base of the bush, we remembered how roses you purchase from the the florist seldom have the sweet fragrance of the ones we grow at home. So, I reached for the large, red Don Juan rose to check and see if this was true. Well, guess what happened? A teeny, tiny white spider dropped out of the rose clinging to it's four inch long web. Gypsy and I said hello and welcomed it to our woods. We proceeded to try to get our nose close enough to the rose to smell it's by now much anticipated fragrance, when another teeny, tiny spider appeared. They watched us closely. So far, we have not partaken of the rose's aroma. We welcomed this spider as well and finally got to smell the rose. The scent was heavenly. Like nothing else. We smelled it again. As the sweet aroma filled our senses, we began to focus on the spiders.
Perhaps, this rose is home to Rose and Robert spider. Perhaps, they met on the fence near the Don Juan rose bush and fell in love. As they looked for a place to set to house keeping, they found this beautiful rose. The petals were soft and they smelled good. And someone was keeping it watered. Perfect! They were content in their home until Gypsy and I showed up to water. We were sorry we disturbed them. We finished watering and quietly watched Rose and Robert crawl back into their perfect red rose. We wondered if they would live like a gypsy moving from rose to rose. Whatever their decision, for now they are happy living in and loving their red, red rose. Gypsy and I have found our red, red rose in the cabin here in the woods. We count our many blessings.