A Rose is a Rose

Seafoam roses from Heritage Roses

The prospect of oodles of roses keeps me entranced.  At Heritage Roses, the photographs are so magnificent that I find myself pulling my laptop a little closer, hoping to catch a whiff of the beauties.  Across the front of our house is an area that begs to be planted with flowers.  

Front of my home, begs planting.

To my mind, it makes sense to use roses as the foundation, then all manner of perennials can be added. The selection of which roses to chose must be made carefully.  Though we have a short growing season in 2012,  Zone 5, roses bloom locally in glorious profusion. This is evidenced by the problematic multiflora rose plant. In western Massachusetts, there is a surfeit of these roses that grow alongside the roads. They are considered an invasive plant because of their noxious and aggressive behavior.  They choke out everything that lives in their path.  One time, I was even convinced that the rose branches had rolled a heavy, 35 pound stone several inches! Delicate white roses in the summer turn into hard-caned, overgrown bushes with red, rose hips in the fall. So decorated, the roses winter over. In spring, they become red-caned ramblers ready to put forth new leaves and new flowers.  The color of the branches turns blood red. The color changes when the maple syrup runs.  When summer returns, the branches grow at an alarming rate and this invasive plant continues its attempt to overtake all vegetation in its path.  

I feel considerably safer in the hands of Heritage Roses. For several years. I have had the habit of photographing roses that I like -- so that I can assess whether they might be appropriate for my little piece of paradise. Thumbing through the Heritage Rose catalogue, I can find some promising prospects. I have an order for Heritage Roses, ready to go, that includes Seafoam (white), Red Cascade, and Eyeopener (coral).  Tomorrow, the sale ends.  If I want June roses to be part of my future, I have to place the order promptly!

"Now May is past and here at last, we greet the time of roses,They bud and bloom in all their pride along the golden countryside."

                                           Source unknown: snippet of lyrics from a song I sang 38 years ago.

I will always stop to smell, and photograph, the roses.