What is one to say about June, the time of perfect young summer, the fulfillment of the promise of the earlier months, and with as yet no sign to remind one that its fresh young beauty will ever fade. Gertrude Jekyll
If you look closely you might note that this bloom is a bit past its peak. The edges are going brown. I find a spent rose as beautiful as the glorious one before it begins to fade. This English Rose has immense perfume. Because our scent nerves seem to have a direct path to the brain my memory can remember. In late May or early June when Gertrude blooms and when I place my nose near the scent, it is so familiar and warm to the soul. Because she is Gertrude Jekyll and because to me roses are female I have a problem with roses like the Gallica Charles de Mills. My guess is that in this 21st century of ambiguous, undetermined sexual persuasion it is not important at all.
Originally published at blog.alexwaterhousehayward.com.
