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Description
The warm lazy days of summer were gone. Each day since the solstice had been getting shorter as the darkness grew longer. But one plant didn't want to accept the march of the seasons. The bud emerged late in the season, seemingly destined to be a victim or the cold that appeared to herald an early winter more than a warm Indian Summer.

And then the rose opened. One last beautiful flower of summer

Taking a moment from their leaf painting, the fairies quickly adorned it's lips with a hint of color. It lasted but a few days. But they treasured it for the promise that even with a long winter on the horizon, summer would come again.

Photography by: Jack Krolak

Description
The warm lazy days of summer were gone. Each day since the solstice had been getting shorter as the darkness grew longer. But one plant didn't want to accept the march of the seasons. The bud emerged late in the season, seemingly destined to be a victim or the cold that appeared to herald an early winter more than a warm Indian Summer.

And then the rose opened. One last beautiful flower of summer

Taking a moment from their leaf painting, the fairies quickly adorned it's lips with a hint of color. It lasted but a few days. But they treasured it for the promise that even with a long winter on the horizon, summer would come again.

Photography by: Jack Krolak