Wild Roses

Tonight our walk took us up a different street from the usual. Along this route we went by the south edge of the little park near out house. I've noticed over the years that there is a large patch of wild roses there and I am happy to report that our wild roses are just coming into full bloom. There was still a sprinkling of rain so the air was humid and the wind was eddying mostly from the south. The aroma of the wild roses hit my nose before I saw them and that smell is so sweet.

Fair warning: No pictures.

I usually take my camera wherever I go out but tonight I forgot to put it in my pocket so I had to be especially observant to catch the color and shape of the leaves and flowers and that helped to retrieve the aroma from that part of my brain that catalogues and stores smells.

Kuro would say I'm a piker when it comes to smells. He can smell thousands of times better than I can. In fact some dogs such as bloodhounds can smell millions of times better than humans. Kuro isn't that gifted but he certainly enjoys walking around the neighborhood taking in the different smells that I don't even notice (thankfully, in some cases).

Back to the the wild roses. The scent of wild roses is special to me. It takes me back to my youth when my brother, Harry, and I would roam the fields and woods doing what boys do, or at least what they did back then.

We had no cell phones or pagers or fitbits or special shoes or clothing or hydration equipment. We went out in the morning and entertained ourselves, came back for lunch and went out again. Looking back,I'm not sure just what we did to entertain ourselves but I know we observed and smelled and climbed and tasted and catalogued the things of the wild.

One of the special spots in my heart is reserved for those memories. I remember that when the wild roses were in bloom the wild strawberries were ripe. Those were two complimentary plants. The aroma of the roses and the taste of the little wild strawberries was similar in a way. Both were sweet, were in shades of red, grew only in special places and both embodied the special attraction of summer.

Wild roses don't grow just anywhere. It seems they prefer certain places. Rocky ground is good, as is roadsides and field borders where most other plants can't make it. They are hardy, don't need fertilization or special pruning and yield wonderful flowers and good fruit. Rose hips from wild roses are sought after since they are high in vitamin C and can be used for tea (infusions) and other concoctions from days of yore.

The patch of wild roses that caught my attention tonight is just regrowing after being removed by the parks department. Last year the bushes were tall and thick. The parks workers mowed them right down to the ground but this year they are back with vigor. The new growth is about 30" tall and glowing with new green leaves and pink flowers.

I'd like to adopt the special survival skills of wild roses. And while I'm at it I'd like to resurrect those special ways to entertain myself from when I was just a little shaver. But at any stage of life there's something to be said for stopping to smell the roses.