I only have three varieties of Roses. Technically, I should only have two. This beauty is not what I ordered. But I'm not complaining!
I've always been a little afraid of Roses. Assumed they were high maintenance. And delicate. Didn't believe they could survive in this harsh climate. Especially with me in charge.
Mom gifted me this yellow one - years ago - when I purchased this house. Wild Yellow Roses blanketed my parent's property when I was growing up. Oh, I just loved them... She promised me: You can't kill 'em, no matter how hard you try. :)
I was skeptical but she was right about that.
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| Wild Yellow Roses + Bonus Dog |
Feeling rather bold after my wild Roses flourished, I tried my luck with another low maintenance variety. The John Cabots.
This is a story of how I fell head over heels in love with John Cabot Roses.
They are a surprisingly, (shockingly?) tough variety.
How tough? This tough:
I've owned this house for a long time but I didn't live in it for 5 years. During those years, I had hired a landscaping guy who did a fabulously incompetent job of taking care of the property.
He disconnected the irrigation system so he didn't have to mow the lawn very often. Not caring that, in doing so, he would kill every flowering thing in my gardens.
* There's a special spot in hell for guys like that. At least, I hope so.
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| John Cabots are huge. This boulder is the size of a Jeep Wrangler. |
Anyhoo... when I moved back to the house, 5 years later, I was shocked at how bad everything looked.
But there they were! My John Cabots survived. Living in a high plains desert, during drought, record breaking heat, very little water, it hardly ever rains here. But there they were! Flowering up a storm.
I own a half dozen of these hot pink beauties. I'd probably buy more - if I could find a place to put them.
It is ~ finally ~ full on summertime up here in the mountains.
The Bottle Rockets are going nuts. I call them that because they typically bloom right around the 4th of July. [Kniphofia Red Hot Pokers.]
The Rocky Mountain Penstemon has decided that growing inside the garden beds is for suckers, she shall bloom wherever she pleases. Choosing to take over the garden bench. And since she's so pretty, nobody wants to sit on her, therefore we don't get to sit in the garden.
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| The wild meadows in Payson Canyon. * This is not me ~ I'm taking the picture. |
Our plentiful snows last winter have brought the wildflower meadows back to life. We're experiencing a super bloom, everywhere we ride.
Last year, this time, we were suffering through our 7th year of horrendous drought. Smoke-filled air from the plentiful wildfires made it difficult to breathe. Ash accumulated on our cars, from wildfires burning too close for comfort. Me. Offering shelter to friends forced to evacuate.
And, of course, the media couldn't stop with the doom and gloom - deeming this cataclysmic. Predicting that we will not survive.
But we did.
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| My darling granddaughter and her BFF on a forced nature hike. They're standing out there, complaining that they don't have their iPads. |
So far, this has been an absolutely delightful summer. The gardens, the meadows, the people, the wildflowers. Everything coming back to life. And I hope it stays this way. For a good long time.
