sweet smell

The trees are now heavy with green leaves, and I can no longer see the barn in the field across from my office window. A patch of the field is still visible, and the lambs running across the grass.

At home, my old pink rugosas are in full bloom, which means full scent as well. I've said this before, but the aroma reminds me of all those elderly women in the 1960s, now all gone, who wore tiny flower printed dresses, high waisted and flowing out long from the belt, and hats (think Queen Elizabeth II). Their perfumes often were quite strong and fruity.

These rugosas, oldest of roses, never get black spot. The leaves are ribbed, and the thorns thick. Their only failing is that they are a magnet for Japanese beetles later in the season.

My English roses are putting on buds, and I noticed last night they're getting some nibbling from aphids. I must start spraying fungicide on them as the potential for blackspot increases each day. The air is getting heavier and more humid as it gets hotter. Two of my bare rooted plants have yet to send out leaves. The branches are still green and alive. I clipped the ends in hope of stirring growth.

I'd still like to plant a New Dawn climber by the front porch. Last year I nearly planted a mock orange but didn't. Maybe this year. I can think of three places to plant it.