Rosa 'Benjamin Britten'Thursday, May 14, 2020
O Rose, thou art sick!
The invisible worm
That flies in the night
In the howling storm
Has found out thy bed
Of crimson joy:
And his dark secret love
Does thy life destroy
It has been my experience after having grown roses since 1987 that roses are like babies and cats. They never perform on demand. They do as they please and often they can surprise you when you are not looking.
The David Austin English Rose Rosa ‘Benjamin Britten’ is ample proof that I may be right. This year, a month ago, the leaves that emerged all had some sort of black spot. I sprayed the rose with the only BC acceptable fungicide Safer’s
Defender. I pulled a few of the infected leaves. The plant looks terrible.
And yet today I found this glorious bloom. It reminded me that Benjamin Britten wrote a work for that William Blake poem. And here it is.