A Rose Is A Rose Is A Rose

In the course of the forty-four years we've lived here, I've planted and lost a discouraging number of roses -- floribundas, David Austins, antique,  climbing, Peace, Jacob's Coat, Nymph's Thigh, Tudor, Cherokee, Fairy, Sweetheart--the list is long and distinguished.

But this little rose endures. It was a gift from my neighbor Louise, rooted from a bush in her front yard. For forty-four years it has thriven, while the parent bush is gone. (Perhaps Louise dug it up and took it with her when they moved from what is now Justin and Claui's house -- I don't remember.)

Another survivor is this climbing rose at the greenhouse door. It's only been around fifteen or twenty years and is at last blooming well. 

I only hope the deer don't find it.