The thorns on the stem can still prick the skin. But the ridged edges of the leaves have softened, even though the leaves are dry. Or they appear to be so. Perhaps, more time has to pass before one can declare them totally exhausted of any moisture.
The petals are dehydrated. One flower had a yellow that of the sun lining the horizon. I'd never seen that shade of yellow in a rose before. It has turned to a mustard now. On looking at it one simply cannot perceive that beauty and the intensity of the pigmentation when the flower was alive.
Pink was the colour of the other rose. I guess a common tone of pink, i don't recall this bit very well. But what is fascinating about this flower is the colour of these parched petals. A very very faint tone of beige and amaranth. All the pigments appear to have accumulated along the edges of each petal. Fascinating.
When they are brought near the nose, a stale fragrance emanates from it. Does it reminds one of a living flower? Maybe it does, to a miniscule extent.
I've never kept leaves in between the pages of a book. I'm trying to preserve these. Let's see how far i go.