
The care and feeding of Wild Roses
I suspect that doing the right thing is, in the end, simply cultivating an appropriate and deliberate respect for all the beautiful variations and possibilities of one another. I always thought they were a gift from my mother. The wild and brilliant red rose vines burst into my yard, along the front of the house, just beneath my bedroom windows, the very first spring following my mother’s death. They have been bringing me delight and insight rather consistently ever since. It’s been almost a decade now. And I’ve always refrained from interfering with their spontaneity, their free-form loveliness, even their integration with the window shutters and roof line and other