It was five o’clock and I’d still not organised my Monday vase – once again the cottage garden had failed me and it was a choice of a bowl of strawberries or a bunch of buttercups. A third of the way through June and the garden was still not producing anything to inspire me or plonk in a vase! Then as I was putting out the wheelie bins I noticed that a small clump of Rosa rugosa was in flower.
Roses will not grow in my very alkaline soil and even thuggish rugosa can only manage a few whimpish briars with buttercup-yellow leaves. However, there is one clump which obviously has found a patch of interesting soil or has the right genetic make-up to remain green and produce a few blossoms. I love roses and I have enjoyed seeing the wonderful roses that adorn so many other gardens. It is a case of “devil get behind me” but when Rambling Cathy went off to David Austin’s rose emporium the worm of envy began to gnaw!
However, these three small incipient roses are enough. The pale pink crinkled tissue of the petals is so delicate and as the flower unfolds they will turn white with just the faintest blush. As the cup opens it will reveal a halo of golden anthers. Just three roses in a marmalade jar will fill the air with a delicate perfume. Then all too soon the petals will fall.
I am quite intrigued by the twisted sepals with the spoon-shaped ends.
I’m not sure I’m so delighted with the aphids which seem to have survived a good dunking in the sink!