This rose grows beside the back door, in an unruly and leggy shrub that threatens to swallow the sidewalk. It is copious with thorns like needles. You need a suit of armor to prune it, but I pruned it, hard, and it came back the next year meaner than ever, taller and leggier than before. I’m a little afraid of it. But oh my, those blooms smell divine. They have the scent that other flowers wish they had. This thing never lets me forget that it is a rose. In two weeks, these blooms will be full of amorous and starving Japanese beetles and by then my attention will be on the peonies anyway, but right now, today, I can’t walk past this deadly thing, in spite of its clawing branches, without giving it a good hearty sniff.
I’ve got a new quilt in the works now, too. These brisk spring sunshine-y days are perfect for quilts. A quilt is kind of a warm weather thing to me, I don’t know, I just want to spread one on the grass underneath the fireworks.