My vivid memory of rose hips was from a tea I drank. As I made my first sip of the richly herbal tea I knew that was the last time I would make that attempt. It wasn’t a flavour I was accustomed to. Instead it left my mouth tasting as if someone was scratching a wall with hard nails. Months later as we were walking at a nearby forest, we saw a bunch of dark orange fruits beautifying a side walk. It made me feel like an autumn bride as I walked on the path decorated both sides with those fruits. I turned to my beloved and asked, “what are they called?” And he said, “Hagebutte. I don’t know the word in English.” I made a mental note to find the word in English. But until then, they existed as rose fruits to me. He saw me smiling and noted my happiness. While I was lost in my autumn bridal thoughts, he took out his garden scissors and cut a bunch of them. “I am going to make you smile even more,” he promised. It was late summer, whereby the once white blossoms were now heralding berries. We also collected fresh blackberry branches. Back at home, my autumn hero set off to work his floral arrangement. Although common to see sprigs of hips without leaves in arrangements, he chose otherwise. He added the blackberry branches with green leaves. The fall-inspired bouquet was made in a few minutes. I only then understood why autumn was his favourite season. Anyone could make a graceful arrangement from the inspiring season. Could I? Well, before tempting to answer that question I decided to concentrate on the department that I believe to excel better than him. This lawyer deserved a hearty traditional Swahili home-made meal as a guiltless would of lawful compensation. As for the hips, I would be happy to comply with a suspended drinking sentence and gladly welcome a visual enjoyment ruling.