It’s this time of year that the roses really come into their own. Wild Eldric and Starlight Express have been galloping ahead at the front of the house for well over a month now but I expect that’s because they get more sun. But at last the roses in the courtyard have caught up. I do think they are a couple of weeks behind last year with their blooming, though, but that means we shall have them for two weeks longer into the second half of the year - hurrah!
The bed is a bit of a mish-mash of varieties, because we inherited the whole lot with the cottage and all the while they are healthy and growing robustly I don’t feel inclined to remove any of them. They are like a little gang of renegade roses and I bet they all chat to each other when us humans aren’t around.
‘Oooh,’ they say. ‘Look at her and her dovecote! And all those herbs.’
‘I see she’s been on a primrose buying frenzy again.’
‘I wonder if she knows the roots of the cherry tree are probably messing with the drains.’
Stuff like that. Anyway, every October, I prune all the roses back to a third, and then every March I prune them back again…and ‘Whoosh!’ Come the first round of mild weather, away they go and by the middle of June I am enjoying the scents, cutting a few for the house and thinking, ‘These are GREAT!’
I love this one - it’s called ‘Blue For You’, has a citrus scent and you could cut one stem and have whole bunch of flowers for a vase. The bees are keen on this one, probably because of the lemony vibe.
Look at this - the three stages of blossom on one stem. Baby bud, magnificent peak of perfection, and ready to drop her petals blowsy. The Maiden, The Mother, The Hag.
These cream ones have a gorgeous scent. When we took out the mock orange a couple of years ago, this shrub expanded like a helium balloon. I think she was being oppressed by the mock orange, but can now spread her stems properly and be in her full glory. She is a beauty - excellent glossy leaves.
It never ceases to amaze me how this peachy number grows so rapidly and so fully. She’s what I call a buxom rose and if she was a person she’d be landlady of a pub called the Bells and Whistles. She wouldn’t stand any nonsense, either. She is taller and wider than me and that’s saying something.
It’s the simplicity of this lass that I like. She’s saying, ‘I’m a rose. It’s what I do.’ Very classy. Definitely NOT a pub landlady. Probably a ballet dancer.
Rambling Rector. You can just see Nell in the background on squirrel watch. I haven’t seen a squirrel in the garden for about a month now. Nell will say it’s because she is keeping watch. A bit like spreading Elephant Powder in the garden every day to keep away the elephants.
Another rambling rose. The smallest of blooms but loads of them and she will keep going well into Autumn. I was hoping to encourage her to grow up the cherry tree, but she keeps leaning away from it. Clearly knows something that I don’t.
This one popped her first two blooms of the year a couple of days ago. She was a gift from a friend when we moved here eight years ago. When she’s finished for this year, I shall move her from her pot and into a gap amongst the renegade gang. I hope they are kind to her and accept her as a new chum.
Despite the heat, I’ve spent a majority of the afternoon tiddling around in the garden, poorly assisted by Nell the Under Gardener. And I was thinking, ‘Do you know, I reckon I might just fill the WHOLE space with roses, because roses are so fabulous!’
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