The saying “sub rosa” meaning “in secret” is thought to have originated in descriptions of pagan rites carried out in places especially sacred to The Goddess: obviously, under trees where roses grew.
I guess I should invite all the pagans I know to come over and enjoy mind-altering chemicals — Coffee, anyone? Tea? CHOCOLATE? — here in this obviously sacred space.
Tobey doesn’t actually work in the yard except to murder the odd shrew. She has more of a supervisory role. Her taste is impeccable.
Sitting out here watching the light come through the leaves. As the sun comes over the trees across the street, it lights up different details, different plants.
This is Peggy Martin, seen from the front porch, in a kind of DIY panorama
I have coveted these natives of the Pacific Northwest for many years, and now finally have planted some — insanely late, but I was a gambler with a Van Engelen gift card burning a hole in my pocket
I look forward to seeing them naturalize.
May 16, 2018. It’s ramping up for this blooming season. It’s before seven AM, so these blooms are not yet fully opened.
They’re semi double rather than double.
That sounds fairly scandalous! I’m leaving it as is.
We’ll see how far the clematis vine gets. It would take many of these to match this pink rose, which continues to get huger by leaps and bounds.