NYC Dream Date: A Rose Amongst the Roses
The Crawford Rose Garden within the Brooklyn Botanical Garden is home to tens of thousands of blossoms climbing up lattices, clambering over the pavilion, and cascading down arches. They mimic my own personal cascade of vibrant red locks that practically shimmer in the sun.
You are captivated by the glint in my sparkling eyes as I slowly bend to inhale blooming buds. Some of the oldest roses were planted in 1927, a testament to the Rose's magnificent powers in growth and regeneration. As you carefully hold my parasol to cover my precious porcelain skin, you notice that a hint of decollatage has managed to escape my sundress. I catch your wandering eye enjoying the robust view.
"You look... thirsty," I tease, absent-mindedly twirling a lock of natural auburn tresses around my manicured finger.
We wander to the Yellow Magnolia Café, located on an airy terrace. I can't resist ordering a glass of Rosé. You watch as I bring the bubbling glass to my luscious lips and sip slowly as my eyes briefly close. I let an errant drop sit a few extra seconds on my upper lip before slowly licking up the sweet liquid.
And this, my love, is not even the main course.