Tuesday, June 16, 2009

By any other name

Sometimes when I'm walking over the tip I'll suddenly stop and take a deep breath. 'Ah, smell that, George.' Then I'll plunge into the bushes to stick my nose into a rose. There's nothing like the scent of a wild rose.

So a few years ago I persuaded Husband to take a spade and a carrier bag on a walk. (I'm almost sure it wasn't illegal.)

The bush flourished in our garden but the strange thing is that the blooms changed from something like this ...

to this ...
As if simply being in our garden domesticated it. The smell isn't quite as sweet either.

6 comments:

mrsnesbitt said...

Beautiful! Simply beautiful!

Gledwood said...

what a land we live in where it even COULD be illegal to dig up a simple bloody flower!

Suburbia said...

Oh! I do that (not that I walk on a tip regularly!!) I can never resist smelling a wild rose :-)

Liz Hinds said...

Thanks, denise.

It is important sometimes, gleds, as we could be removing a rare plant.

They're special, aren't they, suburbia?

Carver said...

That's a beautiful rose. I wonder if the difference has to do with shade. I have roses which are in shade at this point and do well but the blossoms have a wild look whereas the ones in full sun look more domesticated. I am surprised how well some roses do in shade although they are supposed to have full sun.

CherryPie said...

Perhaps George has been doing some fertilising...