The last roses of summer. They are like gentle and fragile old ladies with lace collars and fancy fans that smell gently of soap and sweet bath powder. They are high maintenance because they know they are beautiful and popular. Their heads hand low from fall rains. They are lovely even as they fade. I miss that they must hurry off, but their cruise ship is waiting. Late in November, while I will sit by the fire trying to warm my toes, they will be having tea and ginger cookies along the warm equatorial waters somewhere. They promise that they will send their favorite nieces and they will arrive in sweet pale dresses in the spring and if I show them love, they will stay for a long visit in the rose garden next summer.
The little gal has what is called rose bloom balling due to the cooler weather followed by days of rains. It still looks lovely even though it will never open. I have to move many of my roses this spring as they are in one of the side beds that gets way too little sun. Living in a forest is deceptive. Roses are greedy for sun and I am lucky that I have not gotten any serious fungal outbreaks this year. Come spring I will begin the spraying as these are the only plants where I use pesticide and fungicide for prevention.
The last roses of summer. They are like gentle and fragile old ladies with lace collars and fancy fans that smell gently of soap and sweet bath powder. They are high maintenance because they know they are beautiful and popular. Their heads hand low from fall rains. They are lovely even as they fade. I miss that they must hurry off, but their cruise ship is waiting. Late in November, while I will sit by the fire trying to warm my toes, they will be having tea and ginger cookies along the warm equatorial waters somewhere. They promise that they will send their favorite nieces and they will arrive in sweet pale dresses in the spring and if I show them love, they will stay for a long visit in the rose garden next summer.
The little gal has what is called rose bloom balling due to the cooler weather followed by days of rains. It still looks lovely even though it will never open. I have to move many of my roses this spring as they are in one of the side beds that gets way too little sun. Living in a forest is deceptive. Roses are greedy for sun and I am lucky that I have not gotten any serious fungal outbreaks this year. Come spring I will begin the spraying as these are the only plants where I use pesticide and fungicide for prevention. 
You've captured the character of the last roses of summer beautifully, Tabor!
ReplyDeleteThey do seem to carry with them the promise of next year....
Beautiful images and a lovely description of the sweet old ladies in lace.
ReplyDeleteThat's just a perfect description of these semi high-maintenance beauties. I may never look at my roses the same way again. :)
ReplyDeleteRYN: I had started this series to talk about journaling in NoJoMo. MY journaling was a active part of my window on the world during this time. The only way I could talk about journaling was to show the drawings and talk about what was happening. It's been frightening.
ReplyDeletePS: Yes, what a beautiful portrait of these beauties and their last moments in the summer sun. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteLove your images - both words and pictures!
ReplyDeletelovely images....almost make one tearfull!
ReplyDeletecongrats on POTW!!
Hello, I came over from The Smitten Image.
ReplyDeleteI like your profile message - not looking back. Life is too short for that.
Beautiful rose and obvious talent for writing.
Blessings.
Such beautiful pictures! Congrats on POTW at Smitten Image!
ReplyDeleteBeautiful analogy of the rose to the old lady. Congrats on POTW!
ReplyDeleteCongratulations on your POTW mention. Your post is a perfect blend of great writing and beautiful illustration. Many posts have one or the other but not both. You have both! Well done!
ReplyDeleteWhat a lovely picture you draw with your words. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteThey are lovely even as they fade.
ReplyDeleteI love that line Tabor. That's also the reason why I love cherry blossoms. They fall when their petals are still pink. Lovely petals. Lovely fall. :)
When I fade, I want to be as lovely as the last yellow rose of summer.