5 - Ravishing Roses

 Shakespeare used a rose to explain something: 'What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet...'

Still, the word rose evokes quite a different image from the word turd, and a turd smelling as sweet as a rose...would we rave about our dog's turds? I doubt it.

Roses are amongst my garden favourites. I walk the longer way home simply to pass the house which is festooned by a climbing New Dawn. So it cannot come as a surprise to you that I had to have some roses in my balcony garden. 

The first that joined my life (sorry, I'm a weird plant nut, remember, so roses are family) was the Rosa canina you see on the left. It was small, and past its best, so a bargain. But it smelled divine and fitted in my saddle bag, so what's not to love? We've kept each other company for 4 years now, and it has bravely weathered several gales, drought, snow and frosts. It blooms, I give it a haircut and it blooms again.

It is always the first one to show buds, and to wave her first flowers at me - look, look at me!

Then 2 years ago a friend took me to an old nursery in the next town, where they grow old fashioned roses. The scent from the greenhouse was heavenly. So I brought home an English tea rose. It starts out with salmon and yellow buds, opens up to salmon flowers and then the blooms fade to a buttery yellow within a few days. I've repotted it twice, and it blooms twice in a season as well. This modest beauty has been blown over during the gale last April. I found her on her head in the rock garden, but she only dropped some leaves and rearranged her branches  - let's get on with it, she quietly said, I don't want to think about my ordeal ever again.

And then there are my miniature anonymous hybrids that I rescued from the DIY centre. You know the kind, they are covered with flowers when they appear on the shelves and usually die within a fortnight? I got three for the price of two ( ha!), and they have been with me for 4 years as well. They are like rowdy little boys, jostling each other for space, and always poking their noses at whatever flavour of the year they share their planter with. They have viscious needle-like thorns, and shout loudly when they want a drink - hey! Thirsty!

I planted one of those little thugs in my cottage garden 26 years ago, and it has climbed the elderberry next to it and is now over 10 m tall, almost smothering that elderberry in blood red roses every year.

Not all my roses have been a success...In the first year I tried to get a Schneewittchen to wind through my trellis. I'd had one in my cottage garden, where it met a New Dawn halfway across the pergola and was easy going and gorgeous. But here the lady complained about the balcony, it did not like the planter, it got into a fight with the depressed Honeysuckle, and got black spot. She howled she hated it so much she was going to kill herself, and made good on that threat. We remember her with fond regret.

#roses #thedutchdeltagardener #gardenista #gardeningistherapy #gardening #greenthumbs #myhappyplace

If you'd like to see more photos of my Roses, you can visit my garden on Instagram @songsmith2962 and @grashoffr