Reed had once heard an aphorism stressing the need to 'stop and smell the roses.' Yet when he stepped between buildings in his foray through the marketplace to examine a sudden bloom, he was faced with a treat to the senses like none other; a a glassy, ringed crystal. And, truly, it was enough to give him pause.

( The summer's flower is to the summer sweet,/
Though to itself it only live and die... )