Jocelyn Curry

Every gardener I know has talked about the abundant growth that has beset all of our gardens this past spring. Along with the expanding shrubbery is the happier phenomenon of our exuberantly blooming roses. I'm not a serious rose gardener, but I have several hardy (they have to be) ones. All these are showy at this time: a delight.

I have one friend who, along with her gardener-husband, has a glorious, fully-tended garden and yard. Further, she is gifted at placing a few blooms in just the right container – usually a vintage one. When our little drawing group met at her house last week, she had a pudgy, antique, silver-plated teapot sitting on the table with a few dusty pink roses in it. We sketched it quickly as we had spent an unusually long portion of our 2-hour meeting catching up with one another about life happenings. Here's my sketch:

Above is a collection of four fragrant, cabbage-type roses from my own garden. A gift from my mother-in-law some years ago, this rose evokes such tender feelings because I know that she knew how much I loved these. We lost her in 2016. Often, I will lean in for a deep whiff of their unique fragrance.