When I think of roses or look at the ones in my garden I think of them as gender specific. I think of them as women. Even that lovely rose Rosa ‘Charles de Mills’ is a woman.
To me a rose is like a beautiful woman. I have to look, stare if possible (difficult in this era were that could be misconstrued as sexual harassment).
In the morning, in the afternoon and when the sun is going down as I did this evening my roses are like dogs in a pound.
Some years ago our boxer Antonio had to be put down. Rosemary was in tears. We went to the Mexican SPCA in Mexico City with the idea that we would leave with a dog. We looked at a cage that had many barking dogs. They seemed to be wanting our attention and perhaps in dog language they were saying,”Adopt me.” There was one slate gray terrier type, not too pretty that was not barking. She was mournful. You can guess that we took Mouche (the colour of a common fly) home.
My roses are like barking dogs. They must be saying to me, “Look how pretty I am. Scan me.”
Today it was the English Rose Rosa ‘English Elegance’.
There are three images (scans) here. Two of them are from the same date but in 2014.
Originally published at blog.alexwaterhousehayward.com.