S pclriimngbers
We are so fortunate to have gardens, and for those of us who grow roses, November is an exciting month.
Roses are coming into their pristine best with foliage as yet unmarked by diseases, and our gardens are full of their beauty and perfume.
All flowers are beautiful in their fashion, but a garden full of roses in spring reminds us again why the rose will always be the queen of flowers – and how outrageously lucky we are to have flowers and gardens around us.
And while a garden full of roses is all very well indeed, we need only one bush of fragrant velvet-petalled loveliness to lose our hearts to the rose.
Many of my roses were hard pruned this year which must have been a shock to their systems, but they are all the better for it.
The first to flower this spring is the lovely ‘Jean Ducher’.
It is certainly my favourite Tea rose and sometimes, when I pick a perfect bloom, I think it’s my favourite rose of all. It’s one of those roses that is instantly recognisable – and that’s saying something. Petals of the big double flowers are the softest of peachy-pink with a touch of ivory, and arranged like loosely folded silk. It has a sweet fragrance, few thorns and the ability to bloom from early spring into winter. Add to that an upright, healthy and airily graceful habit of growth, and I wouldn’t be without it.
I could see the sky above my entrance tunnel through winter and feared for my 25-year-old climbers ‘Lamarque’ and ‘Gardenia’, who were clipped to their very bones – but they’re back and will be better than ever.
‘Lamarque’, introduced in 1830, is one of the great ramblers of all time.
Big flowers full of loose, milk white petals are tinted with lemon yellow centres and are said to smell strongly of violets.
They don’t smell of violets to me but perhaps that’s because there are so many
other roses in my garden. Its foliage is pale green and plentiful. Once established in a warm place, this rose will romp away and can cover a pergola in a single season.
‘Gardenia’, planted further along the tunnel, has proved to be the ideal companion.
Long, pointed pale primrose buds open to muddled double flowers, primrose in the centre fading towards the edges of the petals. Leaves are small and glossy dark green, setting the flowers off beautifully.
These are two of the most beautiful climbers I know and are perfect together. Both like a warm spot and both bloom in flushes from spring to winter.
I have always agreed with the great Gertrude Jekyll that roses grown from cuttings are better than grafted roses.
Most of the roses we buy are grafted, which is the normal commercial process by which a piece of the required rose is inserted in reliable rootstock so the rose doesn’t actually grow on its own roots, but on those of the rootstock.
Before I get howls of protest from nurseries, this method works very well and quickly supplies us with the roses we want, and we could not do without it.
But there is something cosy (for want of a better word) about cutting-grown roses.
These are often called ”own root roses” and have their much to recommend them too. You will never be bothered by suckers from alien rootstock. If a high wind breaks the rose at its base, you will still have the roots of your rose. And rumour has it that cutting-grown roses live longer.
Also, we get a great thrill when our own cuttings grow and we are fortunate to have at least two rose nurseries that specialise in supplying ”own root roses”. Trinity Farm Heritage Roses is in Otaki, where Karen Piercy is well-known for her beautiful garden of old roses (google Trinity Farm Roses to see her catalogue or phone 0800 955 555).
Grass Roots Roses at Weiti Station, where Jackie Hamilton grows horses and roses, is a new and exciting addition to own root nurseries. I couldn’t think of a better combination. Email weitistation@xtra.co.nz or google Grass Roots Roses, Weiti Station for more information, catalogue and their phone numbers.