My Mad May Roses
My Mad May roses have been just brilliant. At the end of every gardening day, provided there's enough light, I've done a grateful sweep with camera in hand. So many beautiful roses are flowering!
Don't be fooled. For me, May is just a few weeks short of the winter solstice, the shortest day if not the coldest. Brr...
I'm used to John Clare (a translucent pink David Austin rose) being a brave late bloomer. And all the small Flower Carpet roses put on a late great show in autumn. But the tenacity of others, particularly my recycled nameless roses, really makes me smile.
Two Recycled Unknown Roses
The shy, sensible ones present themselves as honestly being in transition - a bush full of rose hips will have maybe one or two late flowers. Others (the really mad ones) are straining to recover themselves properly with blooms. Oh dear.
The term 'mad rose' is a term of endearment. These silly shrubs just don't seem to know (or care) that winter's around the corner. Even the morning frost doesn't see them taking the hint.
Apricot Scentasia and Friesia
Is there something a bit seasonally mad about the French? La Marseillaise, off the blooming boil for most of the summer, is now desperately starting another set of blooms. Striped Guy Savoy (he is also a famous French chef) is being totally daft. He's created one rose cane (just one) reaching nearly eight feet into the sky, on the top of which a cluster of his cherry and white striped flowers are happily showing off. Do they think they won't get frosted, all the way up there?
Guy Savoy Striped Rose
It really is quite wintry. All deciduous trees are now bare of leaves, and the perennials are trimmed back. The garden is going into sleep mode. But seeing these beautiful, brave roses stops me shivering and starts me dreaming of early summer. Ah...
Anyway, I've always admired the rebellious attitude - funny, that. They say I'm supposed to slow down, take it easy, and not flower in winter? Ha! I'll show them...