Into the Fold

Wild roses are in abundance during the lazy dog days of August.  Mother Nature's final gift to the lover of aromatic petals; the wild rose bursts on the scene.  Passionate pink blooms decorate the garden.  Eventually colder nights will send these brilliant buds to repose, but until then, my wife and I enjoy the gift of utopia in the garden.

"... My wild Irish Rose, the sweetest flower that grows.  You may search everywhere, but none can compare with my wild Irish Rose.   My wild Irish Rose, the dearest flower that grows,  And some day for my sake, she may let me take the bloom from my wild Irish Rose..."  Chauncey Olcott