It's so brief: Dry sticks in winter; new, tender red growth in early spring. Green leaves. The tiniest buds. Weeks of waiting, and pink slits as the buds begins to open. The first rose. A party. Then the second, then all of them; the petals are falling. The last buds have opened into saucer-wide flowers. The camera comes out. So do the pruners, to deadhead, to prepare for the second flush. For these few hours of beauty.