Roses and more...

May 28—today I finally found the courage to remove a few of the old roses from the garden.  The Charisma Rose, which I planted back in 2008 (one of the very first ones) was doing so poorly, that it was a pitiful thing to see; with only a pathetic little spray of orange and gold small bloom. Thus, it had to be eradicated from the garden.

I remember how beautiful this bush used to be, with its brilliant orange scarlet blooms blending beautifully against the colors of the landscape. The flowers were pure orange when they first opened, then quickly blushed to a vermilion shade, until finally fading into a toasted shade of scarlet, bordering on dark coral.  Now, they are no more, but the garden is beaming with lots of other roses, and more to come...

The two shrubs next to the Charisma Rose were not looking good either.  In fact, one of them had become completely wild and leggy, with not a single bloom in it whatsoever, so this one I removed without much contemplation.  The one right by it, was only saved because of the promise of its few small blooms in the most intense of reds.   Still wild, yet beautiful to me.

These two rose bushes were planted around the big fountain almost right before we left…  one was a Cinco de Mayo:  Gifted to me by the Fisherman on that summer of 2012, and the other was a Distant Drums shrub, also planted around that same time, and also beautiful beyond description.  I cannot tell now, however, which of these lovely roses I removed and which I left, for I can’t remember the exact location where I’d planted them. 

There is not a creature in all this part of the world who could in the least understand with what heart-beatings I’ve been looking forward to the flowering of these roses, but they were beyond hope and I have to accept the fact that I may need to remove the one left as well.

I am excited about the awesome new variety of roses available today; all new breeds, all beautiful beyond description to embellish this old-new garden of mine.  So, I am looking forward to this thought, or perhaps, I should just plant something else this time?  Something less pretentious and of a quieter nature, a lower, more mysterious type of a plant, like hostas, with the sublime sense they bring to mind of the deep woods and shady places. 

The mere thinking of them is always a joy.  To me these precious deep green creatures of the shade always bring to mind a wonderful and a mysterious place, where my castles in the air are always the strangest and most splendid adventures… A garden, after all, must combine the poetic and the mysterious with a feeling of serenity and joy.  So alas, I may be planting something other than roses in that newly opened space.

May 29—I worked incessantly in the garden today.  From 7am to past noon, and then some more, I was out there pulling out and replanting peonies and overgrown lilies that were overcrowding the garden and taking away much needed space.   

The rotunda, or Golden Unicorn gardens where roses of the same name and climbers grow was overcrowded with plumped peonies that bloomed in one day and withered in just a week. So, I pruned with gusto, and collected masses of them to make enough bouquets to embellish each room of the house.   

 

Now, that they have started to put forth flowers, I discovered that many more of the old roses have gone wild. They were grafted roses that had died, or the graft failed while I was away. You could still see branches, but the growths were from the root stock; a much hardier, vigorous plant, but otherwise not garden worthy roses.  So, they needed be pulled out. Some, I only pruned to where the small scarce blooms were and let them be.  But they will need be pruned often, for they are a gangly bunch—long-limbed and awkward.    

I later sprayed all roses with Neem oil and freed some of them from those tall and widespread garden Phlox growing around them, preventing air circulation, which is a key component in growing roses.  Without it they are more prone to disease.

I'm exhausted, thorn pocked and sunburned, and there are moments when I wish I’d be Elizabeth in her German garden just instructing others what to do and what need be done there, but then again, this wouldn’t be my garden in the real sense; for to call a garden your own, one must bequeath a bit of your own soul to it every time you step in it… through perspiration, and hard work; which are the true indication of the gardener's passion and love.  

I love how our master room window gets covered by roses throughout the summer... the Sally Holmes climbing rose growing at its feet grows vigorously all year; with abundant spring and summer blooms.

I have two colors of irises growing in mom’s remembrance garden, which I didn’t know, because I only planted the blue variety, or so I thought, and now this lovely burgundy iris is showing up everywhere… I so love it!

One of my ever favorite... Chicago Peace

The climbing Don Juan gone wild.  It still have some small blooms in it, which I like, so I'm letting it be for now...

Some time ago, someone left me a message—a reader, an older woman who lives or lived somewhere in New Mexico, or perhaps Arizona?  She had a lovely small walled garden filled mainly with flowerpots and the typical Santa Fe stucco walls.  I’ve been trying to locate this blog so I can go visit again and enjoy seeing all her beautiful potted plants, but I cannot seem to find her blog.  I hope some of you may know who she is, or who’s blog I’m referring to, so that you can guide me there, or even come along with me?

Thank you for being here in this parts of the world with me... in spirit and thoughts.  I usually do the same, although many times silent.  Be blessed!