Standing on the corner of a freeway and parking lot in Rockport, Maine it was high noon. The sun was scorching hot and the noise and smell of car exhaust assaulted our ears and noses.  We stood, waiting for our ride – very late.  We were practicing patience which was running out.  A sudden hint of elsewhere, for just a whisper of time, the smell of wild roses.  Then again, din.  We turned to realize that we were standing in front of a hedge of wild roses.  We moved towards it, took deep breaths and were transported on its current of delicate aroma.  Downwind of Roses in Maine creates the hedge of roses with mallet percussion and the delicate scent of roses with clarinet and flute.

  --Libby Larsen