Nestled beneath the peaks of the Jade Dragon Snow Mountain, Lijiang’s rose gardens hold a beauty that stops you in your tracks.

In July, as part of a Maldivian media delegation visiting Yunnan, I made my way to the final stop on our trip: the Lijiang Rose Garden, set against the watchful peaks of the mountain.

Outside, the famous rose fields basked in the late-morning sun, their blooms unfurling under the soft mountain light. By mid-morning, the scent of roses drifted across the valley, wrapping around me as I wandered through neat rows of crimson, blush pink, ivory, and gold. It was a spectacle in itself; a sea of colour stretching as far as the eye could see.

Beyond the blooms lay the beating heart of the garden: its factory, where artistry and industry met. Stepping inside, I found myself in a cool hush. The air was crisp and cold, a sharp contrast designed to preserve the delicate beauty of thousands of freshly cut roses. Workers moved with quiet precision, the soft snip of shears and the rustle of paper mingling in the chilled air. They deftly trimmed stems, sorted each flower by size and perfection, and wrapped them in layers of protective paper. The work was meticulous, almost meditative, done with a devotion that felt deeply personal. Watching them, I realised this was more than a production line; it was the preservation of beauty in its purest form.

For me, it was something far more personal. As a child, I dreamed of becoming a florist, spending my days among petals and perfume. In that moment, it felt as though I had stepped into that dream, if only for a few minutes.

It was the final chapter of the trip, but also its most unforgettable; proof that sometimes, the smallest moments bloom into the ones we carry forever.