I happened down to the Portland Rose Garden in Washington Park a week or so ago while out with family. I am not generally one for “bloom pictures” - my stuff typically revolves around construction and design as a main emphasis. Still, plants make the environment, any way you look at it. I have many favorites - Euphorbia’s, succulents of all types, Rhodies, Azalea’s of all types, Cotinus (Smoke Trees) and the never-ending perennials all comprise a short list of fave plants. Rhododendrons may be my all time favorite blooms, just owing to their extreme size and profuseness when they arrive each Spring. But for sheer Summer beauty, Roses do indeed take the cake. I am no Niels. He knows far more about roses than I could pretend to know, yet, I do know many of them and have planted thousands, when told to. But, still, I know what I like:
The smells of the Garden are wonderful. This day, there was a Celtic songstress who played harp and serenaded with some amazingly beautiful music. It was a hugely calming and sensual sort of lyrical feast, perfect for the warm day with its still air. I am generally restless enough NOT to enjoy a rose garden and the idiot who supplied the camera forgot to bring new batteries, so that made me miss some really good pictures. Oh, wait! That’s me!
Nor am I a great photographer, I readily admit it. But I can sure point out why roses are so highly-regarded in any landscape, especially a landscape where one is prone to paying attention to them.
Here’s an overview of the place:
And still more, including two of Portland’s “Beautiful People” posed under an interesting arbor.
More roses and fun. It was an extremely cool day, all in all. Our sister was up from Reno and we toured a bit, including here. A very nice change of pace and a rose festival of our own.
I have no idea what species this rose is but I could have sworn it was a dogwood at first glance. I apologize for the blurred camera work bit it does seem to have single petals of an amazingly rich creamy white color. It made me hungry just looking at it.
