Rosemary is the rich scent of faithfulness. When everyone else in the garden has abandoned me – there she is with her thick wooden stems and her pine like needles but oh they do not smell of pine! She is warm and acidic when the wind blows the sharp scent of snow. Not cold and acidic like pine – the beautifully useless greens we adorn our homes with for Christmas. Once the holidays have past and we are sealed into the darkness with nothing but a long Lent to look forward to Rosemary remains. She is steadfast for soup. She is ready for bread. She will fill my lungs with hope after a day of dried and canned fruit if I will only brave the cold and go out to the garden with my shears. She will be faithful whether or not I tend her in the winter. If I do seek her out she will give me the hope that I need to be faithful in these days of darkness. Her scent sings, “Whoever is simple let him turn in here!” Hers is a warmth and a welcome that only a true love can bring when there is no sign of spring.