The heavy late spring rains slowed the blooming of our wild roses on the side garden. I kept waiting for their blast of fuchsia to brighten the walk from front to back of the house. Those blooms did not hurry. They bided their time waiting for the right combination of moisture, light and temperature. Suddenly yesterday morning those pinck blossoms arrived.
I can't claim great knowledge about growing roses. Ours are inherited from Jamie's grandfather and father. They have small buds. They want to wander especially when we have the trellis in place.
Amidst a see of green grass and trees and a colonial blue house, the brilliant color of the roses truly pop. Sadly, those vivid shades don't last through the summer. They tend to die off before August arrives. Then we wait again for the buds to develop to signal the start of summer.
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