My first rose in a few ways.
My first flower of `Souvenir de la Malmaison’, planted
where I can reach in and easily take a whiff of the delicious tea rose
fragrance. (More of this famous rose later.)
The first year my roses are growing well – a wallaby has
breached the garden fence only once in the past 7 weeks (and counting). She ate
about 5 roses down, and 2 are not recovering from nearly 10 years of this
treatment (and who can blame them?) but others are taller than ever before with
buds the icing on the cake. Two flowers are blooming! Many other garden plants
are finally growing. It’s all very exciting.
So the first of my first real rose season, I think.
(I didn’t grow roses until I was into my 40’s and found
the English roses – with their scents of `honey and musk’, or `English Rose myrrh
fragrance' or `old rose fragrance with hints of honey and almond blossom' and realised roses were special.)
Until this year I’d only David Austin roses, those
shrubby long-blooming old-fashioned looking roses with fragrances out of this
world. For some reason I bought Rosa
`Souvenir de la Malmaison’ this winter, the famous bourbon rose, very full and
quartered, palest of flesh pink, and fading as the flower ages. (I blame
Diggers at Cloudehill; the rose simply leapt into my basket. True story.) Named
for the rose garden of Napoleon’s Empress Josephine who collected every rose
known to Europe at that time – he had instructed his army to look out and
collect new roses as they set about their nefarious business. Yesterday the
first bloom appeared; beautiful, fragrant, like an oasis in a desert.
In my sun and sky bed, the yellow roses are also growing
happily at last bar one, on the edge, obviously eaten just too often over the
years. I really am hoping that they’ll grow above the deep blue Salvia `Anthony Parker’ this year – a
mix of uneaten roses and, perhaps, trimmed salvias. The salvias looked great
through June and July so they are staying for now, even though they are a bit
big for this site (and constant trimming sounds like work that, frankly, just won’t
happen). If the salvias are too big, at least the newly planted 2 Rosa `Graham
Thomas’ will definitely rise above and behind the row of salvias (as one would
expect with a name like that).
At last I am learning about roses, too. Pedigree,
cultivation, and, what’s more, taking catalogue information – even pictures -
with a grain of salt. It’s more expensive than buying rose bushes bare-rooted
in winter, but getting them in a pot can mean getting a plant with a flower the
exact shade of colour you want (yes, I am fussy) and there’s a great place
along the road between Monbulk and Silvan to do this, and maybe The Perfumed
Garden in Mt Martha and one or two other good places, too.
A good range is needed to find that perfect plant with
the right height and the perfect colouring (and long flowering)...and then the
garden will sing.
Jill Weatherhead is horticulturist, garden designer
and principal at Jill Weatherhead Garden Design and garden
writer who lives in the Dandenong
Ranges east of Melbourne, and works throughout Victoria (www.jillweatherheadgardendesign.com.au)
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