My first antique, heirloom (David Austen) rose, cut on Father's Day. Doesn't it have a glorious petal pattern? Looking into one of these roses is like looking up into a Victorian woman's petticoats.
Rendered here, you can appreciate the layers of petals, the delicate ruffle of the blossom.
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Lately I've been whipping up nosegays from the garden to trot across the street to neighbors as thank-you gifts.
Here's a simple one, cut and composed during a rain, of roses, lavender, and sage.
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Roses, "tickseed" coreopsis, feverfew, lavender, and sage.
The lovely thing about these nosegays is that you can flip them upside down and dry them.
So it seems my dreams of roses have come true--and I am very, very happy indeed. Every time I hold a stem I feel rich beyond imagination.
