It's the Plants, Darling, What's Happening

The Run from the Roses

Fallen dogwood petals at home, Louisville, KY. April 23.

I run from roses until mid-April, when my mood changes, as the Kentucky Derby grows near. The Run for the Roses turns me tenderhearted toward roses. It’s complicated.

We have two disease-ravaged and bug-eaten pitiful roses in our garden. I should back up for a second. I’m married to Rose Cooper. (Long accustomed to the joke, she’s OK if you call her Rose Bush.) I’m crazy about Rose. One Rose is all I desire, but I can’t convince her to toss out the other two, mangy roses.

Dutchman’s breeches, Dicentra cuccularia, Wolf Pen Mill. March 31.

And then there is the horse race.

April-flowering dogwoods signal the feverish run-up to the first Saturday in May. The pace quickens as I continue my spring ritual of planting more trees and perennials than I’d first intended in February. I also begin fantasizing about a garland of roses being thrown over the neck of my Derby horse in the winner’s circle at Churchill Downs.

Beaked corn salad, Valerianella radiata, Vanarsdall Road. April 9.

Just as it’s foolish to think I’m going to pick the winner, there will be hits and misses in the garden. There is only one certainty: No place on earth is prettier than Kentucky in April and May.

Blue-eyed Mary, Collinsia verna, near Bald Knob. April 18.

Spring in Kentucky is about anticipation and pacing—casting off a wet, gray winter, and trying to keep up with a maddening bloom sequence from Dutchman’s breeches to lyre-leaf sage. Our garden seems like an afterthought. It can’t compare with the natural grace of Wolf Pen Mill, Bald Knob or Oregon Road.

Guyandotte beauty, Synandra hispidula, near Bald Knob, April 18.

This year’s Kentucky Derby will last for two minutes and change. Doubtful I will pick the winner, but that’s OK. (My money is on Irish War Cry.) In the Derby aftermath, big hats go home and no one will drink a syrupy mint julep for another year.

Philadelphia fleabane, Erigeron philadelphicus, Vanarsdall Road. April 19.

Kentucky’s spring season is more than a horse race.

My two ugly garden roses are on the verge of palliative care.

Largeflower valerian, Valeriana pauciflora, Oregon Road. April 24.

The dogwood blooms faded nearly three weeks ago. But they’ll return. A dogwood has more staying power than a rose.

Lyre-leaf sage, Salvia lyrata, Woodside Road. April 27. Holly Cooper photo.

The lyre-leaf sage, Salvia lyrata, is in bloom in the Bluegrass this week, a few weeks before heat and humidity smother My Beautiful Old Kentucky Home.

Wish me luck on my Derby bet.

 

Posted by on May 3, 2017 at 7:01 am, in the category It's the Plants, Darling, What's Happening.
5 Comments

5 responses to “The Run from the Roses”

  1. Bill Perry says:

    There was nothing more fun in high school than barreling up Bald Knob hill on a moon-lit night with the headlights off! Thanks for jarring the memory, Willie. Very nice article!

  2. Pat Dwyer says:

    Allen…you’ve always had the winner…with the Rose of your life!
    Happy Derby my friend! Ping Pong soon.
    Pat

  3. Stuart says:

    Here’s betting Bald Knob was named by an englishman. Phnarr Phnarr (as we say over the pond)

  4. This is the common problem in today,s farming. A good variety of flowers can be grown using organic fertilizers.

  5. Alita says:

    Roses are beautiful.

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