The notion that a something within a flower can heal you fills me with wonder. I've used these since my adult daughter was a little girl, and there's still ritual involve in each dropper full. People laugh, ridicule and roll there eyes, but I have a secret. I'm a chestnut bud, following a crab apple to a cherry plum and when I get truly lost, I take a few tiny drops of wild rose onto my tongue and remember what we are. We.. all of us, are the same sort of beautiful nonsensical beauty and purpose that a flower is. This dorky moment is brought to you by a lovely end to lovely day, made so because we're all still here...where ever here happens to be.