
ROBERT SNAP SPOT
Yes, I Smell a Rose

Friday Flowers – The Flower Hour

Did That Come From the Roses?
Neal and I were walking through Ace Hardware’s Lawn & Garden section when a large stone head caught my attention.
There he sat among the blooming roses, looking like some Greek god who had been left in charge of the place. Of course, statues can’t talk… but this fellow seemed determined to get a word in.
“I’m happy to stop and smell the roses. Being called over by the garden décor takes a little getting used to.”
– Robert

I glanced toward Neal, then back at that face, waiting to see whether I’d imagined the whole thing.
“Psss… hey there.” Oh, good. The statue was going to make this awkward.
A Rose Under His Nose
I leaned closer, which is apparently what I do when a garden statue starts whispering.
From this angle, I could see a yellow rose tucked just beneath his nose.

He couldn’t turn his head to investigate, and that rose wasn’t offering any explanation.
I was beginning to understand why he needed a passing shopper.

THIS WEEK I NOTICED
Quite a Face for Friday Flowers
Humor is a part of reality and fantasy is part of life. I came away with photographs of yellow roses and far more close-ups of a nose than I’d expected. You can see how it happened. Put that serious face beside those petals, and I’m going to wonder what he’s thinking. By then, I’d already given him a voice… might as well introduce myself.
Psss… Hey, Buddy!
“Did I hear someone?” I asked, looking around.
“Hey, buddy, over here,” said the statue. “As you can see, I can’t move around from this spot.”
“Oh, hi there. My name is Robert. How can I help you?”
“Well, Robert, Granite Greg here. Am I crazy, or do I smell a rose… under my nose?”
Now, I hadn’t expected to be discussing nasal concerns with a large stone head at Ace Hardware. But he’d asked politely.
“I don’t mean to point out the obvious, Greg, but there is a yellow rose under your nose. I suppose that observation was a bit… on the nose!”
Ha Ha, Hee Hee! (The crowd of flowers in the garden section erupted into laughter!)
“Thank you, oh thank you!” Greg said. “I’m not crazy! That rose has been tickling me under there.”
“Well, whatever you do, try not to sneeze. I’m standing awfully close.”
I strolled back over to Neal and promised myself I would “not” mention this to anyone. A quick look back turned into a double take. Granite Greg gave me a wink, apparently satisfied that his secret was safe with me.
And here I am telling you. Greg really should have asked whether I had a blog.
Who would buy a talking statue, anyway? Days later… maybe I need to head back and buy that cool guy Greg. I wonder how I’m going to explain this one to Neal.


I had to give the rose a photograph of its own after all the trouble it had caused. Greg would probably request that I move it a few inches to the left.

THE CONVERSATION CONTINUES
Does Imagination have a Smell?

Pull up beside Greg and tell me what your imagination smells in these photographs. He’s had plenty of time to consider the question, but I suspect his answer will be “roses.”
“Can you almost smell that yellow rose, or do your eyes need your nose to confirm it? Tell me below, and come back for the next Flower Hour… I’ll keep an ear out among the pots.”
“Writing is my kind of art. I can give a stone fellow a voice, wander off with his story, and keep going as far as my imagination likes. There’s always another ‘what if’ to follow.“
— Robert
📍 Marsh Tower, Skidaway Island, Savannah, Georgia
Collection
Also shared with The Flower Hour #45
Captured with
Canon EOS R100 – iPhone 15 Pro Max
Published by
Robert Snap Spot


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