Roses
All practicality aside, I must admit that I am deeply in love with the fragrant plants. As I was setting up the first perennial beds here at Wakefield/Ground Farms, my initial (and continuing) drive has been to plant and cultivate those things which are useful in some way; food, medicinal, or for scent.
My love of roses really began when I was 7 years old and in foster care. Things had not gone well with my parents and family; alcohol, neglect, abuse and violence had risen to the level that my older sister and I were runaways (at ages 13 and 7)- thank God we were successful and that the authorities listened to us. Our parents were given an ultimatum; stop drinking or lose your kids. My older sister went to stay with friends of the family; I and my 2 younger siblings were placed in foster care. During the year that my parents worked on getting better, I was in a foster home in Newfield, Maine. The peace was a blessing, but it was alienating not to have what I had called home around me.
There was a day in late spring that I was on my way to school and passed a neighbor's house- dawdling as usual, I had occasion to get close to one of their rose bushes. It was (I know now) a white rugosa, and the scent was beyond belief and understanding. My life had been strange and not very happy- but in the scent of the rose, I experienced something else entirely- sublime, deep, passionately lovely, altogether exquisite. There was such power to the experience that, even now, 54 years later, the scent of my white rugosas takes me back there, and I give them the deepest and most heartfelt thanks for how they helped that lonely child. The impact to the senses opened a door to an entirely different world- I had had no clue that anywhere there could be such beauty. I don't recall the name of the neighbor- but I remember the rose and the gift of the rose.
Here on the farm I probably planted the first roses in about 1997 (16 years before the present writing). Then and now, I have concentrated on the 'old roses', and the varieties advertised to have the deepest scent. I have noticed that for the first few years, they may not have the potency advertised in their description- it is as if they need to get their roots down, begin to spread out and feel 'at home'. Once they acclimatize in this fashion, their true beauty may be appreciated.
I have one friend who prunes her roses severely each year and claims to get wonderful results in that fashion. I am totally the opposite; and should probably cut back more. If I have some year or years with more leisure time, I will attempt this to a greater extent than I have managed so far..
My love of roses really began when I was 7 years old and in foster care. Things had not gone well with my parents and family; alcohol, neglect, abuse and violence had risen to the level that my older sister and I were runaways (at ages 13 and 7)- thank God we were successful and that the authorities listened to us. Our parents were given an ultimatum; stop drinking or lose your kids. My older sister went to stay with friends of the family; I and my 2 younger siblings were placed in foster care. During the year that my parents worked on getting better, I was in a foster home in Newfield, Maine. The peace was a blessing, but it was alienating not to have what I had called home around me.
There was a day in late spring that I was on my way to school and passed a neighbor's house- dawdling as usual, I had occasion to get close to one of their rose bushes. It was (I know now) a white rugosa, and the scent was beyond belief and understanding. My life had been strange and not very happy- but in the scent of the rose, I experienced something else entirely- sublime, deep, passionately lovely, altogether exquisite. There was such power to the experience that, even now, 54 years later, the scent of my white rugosas takes me back there, and I give them the deepest and most heartfelt thanks for how they helped that lonely child. The impact to the senses opened a door to an entirely different world- I had had no clue that anywhere there could be such beauty. I don't recall the name of the neighbor- but I remember the rose and the gift of the rose.
Here on the farm I probably planted the first roses in about 1997 (16 years before the present writing). Then and now, I have concentrated on the 'old roses', and the varieties advertised to have the deepest scent. I have noticed that for the first few years, they may not have the potency advertised in their description- it is as if they need to get their roots down, begin to spread out and feel 'at home'. Once they acclimatize in this fashion, their true beauty may be appreciated.
I have one friend who prunes her roses severely each year and claims to get wonderful results in that fashion. I am totally the opposite; and should probably cut back more. If I have some year or years with more leisure time, I will attempt this to a greater extent than I have managed so far..