Having spent another morning wrestling with the brass in St. M's I was too tired on my return home to tackle the very necessary dead-heading of my roses.
Four days ago they looked truly fabulous and smelled even more so, today, after heavy rain and very strong winds a couple of days ago they are somewhat battered.
This however, does not in any way detract from the gorgeous, heady overwhelming perfume of most of them.
In the small, overgrown, weed-choked front garden "Rhapsody in Blue" is rioting in all it's slate-blue faded violet glory. The perfume from the front door-step (the wind is in the right direction today) is superb,
"Deep Secret" and "Josephine Bruce" are at their dark red best, " Zepheryn Drouhin" around the front door Leaves bitten by mildew sends its soft sweet meessage to anyone brave enough to enter the dragon's den.
There are many, many more, in the front and twice as many in the back garden, clashing colours but universally admired favourites such as "Weilschenblau" Blairie No 2, (weird name that), and "Alan Titchmarsh" all sending wafts of sweetness into the still chilly air.
But (yes I know sentances shouldn't begin with but, but, most of mine do) the most exquisite scent of all comes from a lovely dark - almost black - red rose called "Tradescant".
This rose above all others, epitomises for me what the love of roses is all about, it is deeply whorled and intricately quatrefoiled with dozens of small petals and mine is currently growing through a half-dead buddliea. On the rare occasions when everything works as it should, the dark red against the soft green foliage and long pale mauve 'tails' of the buddliea looks utterly enchanting, and the perfume is enough to send the unwary deeply unconcious.
One day soon I hope to acquire the necessary skill to use my digital camera (don't know how) and take and post some pictures of my lovely lovely roses (don't know how to do that either).
If only I had even half the success with the computer and allied technical gadgets that I have as a gardener I might really feel as though I belonged in this century, instead of being merely a byestander.