Saturday, July 02, 2011


I have been walking in the garden almost as if I were seeing it for the last time. My roses are out and all seem to be clamoring to look at them and to indulge in their scent. I know that quite a few will be around when I return from Texas. But sadly the Gallicas and my albas, all once blooming, are saying hello but goodbye at the same time. There will be next year but one never knows. Much has been written about the short life of a butterfly but little about the longevity of plants other than trees. Some of my roses have been with me since 1986 when Rosemary and I moved to Athlone Street. But there is at least one that was here before. It says hello every year in lurid red/orange. All That Jazz may not have the elegance and snobbery of an old French rose or one of David Austin’s English Roses. But All That Jazz has persistence and with its longevity I would be sad to say a permanent goodbye.

In all the scans of many of the roses of my garden that you see here, not one is All That Jazz. I am sure that when I return it will make up for it and greet me. It will be nice to be home.