Julie has a dozen David Austin roses, which are in the fullness of bloom in her garden in Palo Alto. We play a game: which is your favorite? Mine is the ‘Queen of Sweden,’ pink, upright, very proper. But really, who can choose? Put your nose in ‘Ambridge’s’ bosom and you’ll be unfaithful to the queen. And what about ‘Shropshire Lad?’ A.E. Housman was smitten. So am I. The lad sprawls seductively on the wooden fence.
Such a plenitude. Maybe too much. Beauty at its best is a lightning strike. The garden if full of fat bees. A different kind of beauty. I’m drowsy.
At home I rearrange them in a vase. I want to give them away, to someone who will faint with pleasure.