It doesn't look like this anymore! |
Very few perfumes come close to the
sweet fragrance of red roses blooming in your own backyard.
You can see our gazebo through the buds |
It’s a heady
combination of a gift from above blended with gritty soil, hard work and true
love. The rain in California helped too.
Hundreds of buds! |
They really exploded this year into a giant infusion of magical, sweet-smelling
blooms. Oh and the hard work had nothing to do with me. I’m a writer, not a gardener. I'm grateful for true love.
These roses are called the Mister Lincoln, honoring our 16th President. |
I think I mentioned, last year we had some
ducks that enjoyed hanging out in our yard too and they are back—well kind of—you
see there’s a sort of power struggle going on between our rescued dogs and the wild ducks. Pinky weighs between 20 and 25 pounds and most of you have already heard
me ramble on about my five pounds of terror- Fiona.
Duck Dynasty? |
Anyway, these two romantic ducks look like
they’re over ten pounds and for the most part everyone has been getting along
just fine. (You stay on your side of the yard and we’ll respectfully stay on
ours.)
The rose bushes however, are apparently out of bounds, because yesterday
when I went out to enjoy the aroma of those roses, Pinky noticed the ducks
waddling around underneath the thorny bushes. She dived after the large male. Feathers fluttered and the canard sans à l’orange, flew up into the air and beyond the fence. Pinky
looked shocked. Her eyes followed the birds into the sky and then she looked
over at me. “Yeah,” I said. “Bet you’d like to do something like that-- pretty
nifty trick, huh girl?” She wagged her tail and sniffed the ground before
looking into the air wondering how something bigger than her frightening little
sister could become airborne. Still stunned, her tongue dripped with excitement
and her eyes became bottomless pools filled with animated question marks. I
laughed and reached to pet the top of her head. “Haven’t you ever seen magic
before?” I asked before heading for the house.
“We better go inside so the ducks
can come back.” A few hours later, they were back. We’ll probably have baby
ducklings again this year. Guess they like the scent of roses.
I took this shot of a double rainbow --above our yard --from an upstairs window, last week. |
Meanwhile, Fiona wrote this:
Roses are
red,
Violets
are blue,
Where did
the ducks go?
We haven’t
a clue.
Your roses are beautiful, Evie. Hair Ball misses Sir Poops. He wishes to have a play date with Fiona.
ReplyDeleteWhat lovely roses! The dogs will just have to behave themselves. I know, that's asking the impossible.
ReplyDeleteFiona is talented.
ReplyDeleteHopefully the dogs don't bother the little ducks when they appear.
Oh My Goodness, your roses are so beautiful.
ReplyDeleteI love Pinkie's story. So wonderful.
I would love to see some photos of your beautiful yard.
cheers, parsnip
LOL! Love the poem at the end! I had 3 red rose bushes years ago and they grow pretty fast, but when they do, they are absolutely gorgeous! I want a duckling...
ReplyDeleteFive pounds of terror, huh?
ReplyDeleteI planted a red climbing rose just a couple of days ago. Your lovely pictures are a preview (hopefully) of things to come!
ReplyDeleteHello Eve, this is such a magical post. I can actually ‘see’ Pinky head slightly to one side imploring you to explain what happened. I also get a faint hint of the perfume in your garden, and that just proves what a great writer you are.
ReplyDelete