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rose season

If I had to pick a month to live forever, I’d pick June. It’s a good thing I can’t, because then we’d never see harvest again, or copper leaves, or trees in bloom.

Snow I won’t miss.

Anyhow, June is the season of romance, how could it not be when all the old garden roses, the picky once bloomers, come alive in a magical burst of flowers and fragrance?

I’m a sucker for punishment and have tried these prima-donnas of the plant realm every year since I started gardening. Every year!

Old damasks, like the variety in the picture which isn’t really that old :), chinas, noisettes, impossibly difficult gallicas, albas that wither when you breathe too loud, I’ve tried them all.

What worked? Rugosas, sub-zero hybrid Canadian varieties that live in the tundra, floribundas and species. That’s as close to letting nature take over as it gets while still saying you’re growing roses. Oh, and a wealth of Dr. Huey, for reasons that don’t need explaining. Even I can’t kill that root stock!

The roses of June are spellbinding regardless, no flower can even come close to their fascinating displays, and they have stiff competition from the early summer bloom which is a joy to behold in and of itself.

Mercy me! We have to wait for five more months and the groundhog hasn’t even spoken yet…

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