Despite the severe lack of moisture, there were still flowers in our part of France. Centaurea jacea or brown (where’s the brown???) knapweed (not a very attractive name) looks like a Dr. Seuss flower to me. 🙂

Despite the severe lack of moisture, there were still flowers in our part of France. Centaurea jacea or brown (where’s the brown???) knapweed (not a very attractive name) looks like a Dr. Seuss flower to me. 🙂
2017 was a good year for roses. Climbing roses were everywhere, some climbing two stories. They were gorgeous! This spray was somewhat smaller, but it was beautiful and in a place where we could stop so I could get a photo. 🙂
These days, I’m not sure “A rose by any other name would smell as sweet” is true. Many of today’s hybrid roses have no scent at all, something that brings me much sadness. It’s true that they’re still beautiful, but appealing to only one sense is not nearly as wonderful as touching both sight and smell.
Although you can’t smell these French roses, (I haven’t figured out how to add smell to my posts, yet), I hope you enjoy the sight of them.
It was June, and the world smelled of roses. The sunshine was like powdered gold over the grassy hillside.
~Maud Hart Lovelace, Betsy-Tacy and Tib
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Age gracefully.
Sorry if I didn’t get to your blog yesterday. Lots going on in these last days before I leave, including a big mulching job, errands, picking up (but not filling out yet) job applications for fall, etc., etc. Life just gets in the way sometimes. 🙂
It’s Macro time at Sally’s. Today I offer you an intimate look into the center of a rain-decorated rose, a shot taken with my iPhone 5s, the perfect camera to carry in my favorite outdoor pants when on my way to another walk in the forests of the Voges in France.
It was June, and the world smelled of roses. The sunshine was like powdered gold over the grassy hillside.
― Maud Hart Lovelace, Betsy-Tacy and Tib
It is the time you have wasted for your rose that makes your rose so important.
 ~Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince
Some people grumble that roses have thorns; I am grateful that thorns have roses.”
~ Alphonse Karr, A Tour Round My Garden