One wild rose

One wild rose pinking the end of spring Hints at the bouquets cultivation would bring. Poised in the moment between opening and fraying Its eye open wide in search of bees straying.

Rose hips

Here’s another place to look for fall color — rose hips. Some are still a nice, bright red, but more have taken blackening hits from the cold. Already.

A Rose as Nursery

The heat let up just enough for me to cut down a rogue copy of my wild rose bush. After getting my hand stabbed and picking out bits of thorn from my fingers, I’m leaning toward thinking it’s a Prickly Rose. While I was cutting it down and hacking it up, I found all sorts […]

The end of flower weeks

The roses are done. The rose hips begun. The irises are done. A pod for each one.

The Week of Wild Roses

One longtime volunteer in the yard is a big shaggy heap of arching thorny stems that turns into a charming Pasture Rose covered with sweet, pink flowers. They only last about a week or two, and every year it startles me with how suddenly they appear. All spring it’s a hairy mess keeping me away […]