A yellow rose is the promise of a new beginning

Years of Septembers starting out with
new grades,
new teachers
and new learning horizons
embedded in my mind
that August is the month that teeters on the precipice of new beginnings.

My heart often yearns for
the beginning of a new school year--
to feel the excitement of anticipating the frontiers that held
new knowledge,
new insights,
and learning new skills.

It seems fitting that the yellow rose should be the symbol of the promise of new beginnings.

August is the month of sunny yellows and bright oranges--
colors that radiate the warmth of an August sun
shining on beachgoers as they enjoy the last few weeks of
a summer no one wants to end.

August finds my heart torn between two worlds...
that of the endless-summer-seeking beachgoer
and that of the anticipatory student.

At once
holding on to every sun-filled moment to savor it and hope it never ends
while
looking to the horizon wondering what adventures lie beyond.

The roses featured in this post are 'Golden Showers' climbing roses

Bloom-a-day 5: Ronald Reagan rose

Like an artist's paint palette exploded, the garden is alive with color everywhere I look.

I've decided to feature a bloom a day until this beautiful show comes to a close.

When choosing rosebushes to become permanent residents in the garden, I tend to steer away from red roses simply because they're not unusual enough. However, when I came upon the "Ronald Reagan" as a bare-root with a full-color photo on the bag label,  I fell in love with the unique coloring of the petals--how they are light (almost white) at the base and then deepen to a bright red on the edges. When I saw that description of the foliage was "dark, leathery and glossy" (translation: more disease resistant) I was sold. I've never regretted buying this beauty. This year it's putting on the best show ever since it came to live here.

Bloom-a-day 3: Angel Face Rose

Like an artist's paint palette exploded, the garden is alive with color everywhere I look.

I've decided to feature a bloom a day until this beautiful show comes to a close.

I think this is an Angel Face rose... it's either this one or the other one that looks a lot like it. They both lost their tags since I planted them. I remembered one of the names and completely forgot the other... something with "magic" in the title. Even when I do have roses labeled I manage to have this happen. *sigh*

Making the most out of trimming up the garden

I was having to give a corner of the garden a "haircut" the other day in order to make the path passable. Under the huge (and I mean HUGE) buddleia bush, grow a bunch of plants that prefer less intense sun. They had all grown rather unruly  and needed shaping up. So the hydrangea, a fern and the David Austen "Abraham Darby" rose got trimmed up.

One reason I hate doing a mid-summer trim is that I often have to cut off blooms in their prime. That's what happened with the "Abraham Darby". There was a perfect rose blooming on a long branch encroaching in a not-so-subtle way onto the well-traveled garden path that sweeps in front of it. It had to come off. I felt so bad. Until I had an idea... I decided to bring the single bloom inside instead of throw it in with the rest of the green waste, and I would use it for a photo shoot.

Usually I can't bring cut flowers inside because I have a flower-eating-ginger-tabby that won't leave them alone unless the flowers are perched on the fireplace mantle. I put the "Abraham Darby" in a small bud vase on the mantle until I had the right natural light in my studio.

A couple of days later when the light was right and the flower-eating-ginger-tabby was napping, "Abraham Darby" and I had a photo shoot. And "Abraham Darby" was the perfect model.

~the above photograph is available here~

Love and paradise

There are two rosebushes that don't bloom during the warmer months along with the rest. Instead they bloom in the cooler months. I don't know why. They just do. One was a gift from a friend when my father-in-law passed away. It is fittingly called "Paradise". During the grey days of winter I have the bright luscious blooms of this rose to enjoy. It seems appropriate that it should be so.

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The sultry red velvet petals of the Abraham Lincoln

Sometimes no words are necessary and a rose can speak for itself.

Creating my own secret garden with "curtains and fountains of roses"

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I've posted before about my own little "Secret Garden" of sorts. In that post I said:

"There's a line from one of the film adaptations of 'The Secret Garden' that always come to mind when I'm in the garden--'curtains and fountains of roses' is the line. I think maybe I've been subconsciously using that movie line as a pattern for my plant-as-you-go form of garden design which has resulted in what we have now."

As I photographed the Cecile Brunner rosebush (seen above) that is spilling over with pale pink blossoms, I realized what "curtains and fountains of roses" really are.

The Cecile Brunner is a climbing rose that is a vigorous grower. In only a few short growing seasons, our bush now towers over us at 14-20 feet tall. The long sturdy canes form their own trellis if left to grow woody and the new canes grow fast into long arching limbs of blossoming sweetness. Our bush has created its own sizable garden arch that is the entrance to the back garden.

If that weren't enough serendipity, the sparrows also use the thick green foliage as a protective nesting site for their young swooping in and out with bugs they've gleaned from my garden to keep it pest free without chemicals.

After years of appreciating the aforementioned film, I finally understand what "curtains and fountains of roses" are and why every secret garden should have them. It is more blissful than I ever imagined years ago when I would watch the film and dream of creating my own secret garden someday.

Dear Uncle Walt,

I'm trying hard to keep moving forward, to continue to believe in the magic, and to let my curiosity lead me down new creative paths.

Warmest regards,
Me

The above rose is officially called "Disneyland" and grows in these amazing bunched clusters, looking like live bouquets on the bush. These specimens are blooming in my garden here at Rosehaven Cottage.

Too beautiful to post-process

The sun is shining today with white puffy clouds against a blue sky. It's like nature is wishing us a Happy Valentine's Day a day early.

I found the "My Fifi" rose bush trying to send out very early blossoms on some long canes that I've been meaning to cut back. I'm glad I didn't cut them back though, because it meant that I could photograph these precious little blossoms against the white clouds in the blue sky--the perfect backdrop.

I got back inside to post-process the photos and I just couldn't make myself do anything to this shot except a crop. To me, it's just too beautiful to post-process anymore. Sometimes it's just that way. It's "photographic serendipity".

Another of my life's paradoxes

The weather has finally cooled enough for me to venture back out into the garden in earnest and do the necessary trimming and cleanup after a long hot summer. Without a lawn to mow, I can let things go for a couple of months.

As I was pruning things, I had to shape up the rosebushes from offending branches that would compromise the form of the bushes. Some of those branches had blossoms on them but they still had to go. Since I had floral design class the next day, I just put those branches in a bucket of water and toted them to my class to use the flowers and buds in the hair wreathes we were making. It ended up that I used almost all of my foliage and flowers for that exercise and it was very rewarding.

Here's the funny thing... if I bring flowers or foliage from home I often get one or two comments from classmates about how spectacular my gardens must be. I guess they see my perfectionist tendencies as I do floral arranging and assume it must be multiplied times a gazillion in my gardens. But that couldn't be farther from the truth.

In the garden, I let things get quite shaggy before I give it a "haircut" so the critters in my "backyard wildlife habitat" have places to hide and nest. I rarely "dead-head" my roses in the summer so they are more drought-tolerant. I don't clean up fallen leaves because I like them as natural mulch. In other words, I let things be very natural. Having it that way makes me feel contented and happy.

I only wield my perfectionist control once I get into floral design class or back in my studio with a photograph or piece of artwork. I think that surprises a lot of people when they come and visit Rosehaven Cottage. But my philosophy is that nature really can't be controlled. As long as something is growing, I can't really control it. I can only be a good steward over it. So instead of trying to control, I try to have a symbiotic relationship with the things that are growing in my garden and let them fulfill the measure of their creation under my stewardship. I think that's why it makes me contented and happy.

Used my own texture Warm and Toasty
Used the vintage PS Action by Omar the Radwan

The Abraham Darby has bloomed

Click here to view large
I used the wonderful texture from swimmingintheether's collection

The "Abraham Darby" (a David Austen rose) has bloomed for the first time this year. I'm always intrigued by its ruffly petals that remind me of an old painting. So I tried my hand at making the photograph look more like a painting in Photoshop by using a texture, erasing the texture strategically, and then adding in highlights sparingly.

Rhapsody in Blue

Lilacs on our warm climate "Lavender Lady" lilac bushes

It seems that everything is blooming in blues and purples right now in the Rosehaven Cottage gardens. It is a wonderfully serene yet vibrant show that's going on. Blue and purple flowers always amaze and entrance me.

Dutch Iris

I've been reading the book "Flower Confidential" by Amy Stewart. One of the fascinating things in the book is the discussion of how the color of a flower is determined by its internal chemical makeup at a cellular level. There's a lot of science behind it (I won't bore you with the details), but it is a fact that some flowers cannot be blue unless genetically altered. Because of this, no one has yet been able to breed a true "blue" rose.

Dover Beach Bearded Iris

The last I heard, no one has been able to breed a truly "scarlet red" bearded iris for the same scientific reasons why no one can breed a "blue" rose. Frankly, I'm happy with the fact that in order to have blue AND red flowers in my garden I have to have both iris and roses.

"Blue Ribbon" Rose

And even though it isn't really "blue", I think that the "Blue Ribbon" rose is absolutely beautiful. With its dusky scent it smells like the old rose perfumes from decades ago. When I smell it, I am transported back to standing at my Grammy's dressing table when I was 6 years old sniffing all the lovely potions and lotions.

If I really stop to think about it, each one of the flowers pictured here reminds me of my Grammy and her garden. Even the subtle scent of the bearded iris has that connection for me. Isn't it interesting how scents and smells from positive early childhood experiences continue to attract us, particularly women?

What color and scent are the blooms that remind you of happy and content times in your life?

This blue sky will have to do...

Used my Worn blue cover texture available along with my other free textures.

I also used a dirty plaster texture but can't remember the source.

With the rain we've been having this week, I haven't had the privilege of seeing a blue sky that much. So I went into my photos (taken only a couple of weeks ago) and found some blue sky. My "Tahitian Sunset" rose had decided to bloom in the unusual January warm weather. It looked so cool against the blue sky that I had to turn it into a "painting". It's always good to stop and enjoy a blue sky, so the creative process afforded me that opportunity to really drink it in.

Another spot of "blue sky" is when someone thinks of me and honors me with a blogging award. I've been really behind in acknowledging the awards I've received as of late. I know that I'm not remembering at least one, and I sincerely apologize if I missed yours.

I received this pretty award from Carolynn at Glowing Ember. The hearts are an instant fave of mine (I love Valentine's Day). The award is to be passed on to eight recipients and should be awarded to blogs "...[that] are exceedingly charming. These kind bloggers aim to find and be friends. They are not interested in self-aggrandizement. Our hope is that when the ribbons of these prizes are cut, even more friendships are propagated. Please give more attention to these writers. Deliver this award to eight bloggers who must choose eight more and include this cleverly-written text into the body of their award." Since I can't possible single out only eight of my favorite blogs, I am passing this award along to every dear blogging friend because you all fit this description to me.

Then I received this absolutely adorable pink and green award from Debbi at Aunt Debbi's Garden. I'm supposed to list six things that make me happy... Hubby, kitties, gardening, church service, Chinese chicken salad, and sunshine. There are so many other things that I could list that make me happy.

I'm curious... what things make you the happiest and why?

Solitary

One solitary rose is blooming on the mystery rosebush in the back garden. Its pink petals stand out so starkly against the grey browns of that corner of the garden in winter. The light was shining behind it and lighting up the edges of the pink petals so beautifully. I brought the shot into Photoshop and worked some texture magic to make it look old.

Used my Granite texture available along with my other free textures.
Used the Photoshop action Retro Love by pseudonymfreak

Peach and Green

Many moons ago when I was in high school, by favorite color combination was peach and green. Hence, my junior prom dress was green, and my senior prom dress ended up being peach.

In my 20's, I still loved the color combination so much that I chose to do all my Christmas decorations in peach and green. My Christmas tree was decorated with off-white lacy things; gold ornaments; cream, peach, and pale green glass balls; and other girlie things.

Somewhere in my mid-20's, I switched my Christmas color scheme completely to embrace my new favorite color combination of plum, rose, and green. But deep down inside, if I see peach and green together it makes me happy.

When I was in the garden last week and saw the Abraham Darby rose blooming in front of the russet pink of the hydrangea, I took a photo of it. Little did I realize when I took the shot, that it was going to be peach and green--which I was very pleasantly surprised to discover when I was post-processing the shot.

I was so pleased that I decided to play with the shot and turn it into an art piece. So I combined the above photo with a sepia version of the texture below (it's a rock that's out in our garden):

Then I did some drawing with light and shadow on my digital tablet, and I eventually got a "colored pencil" piece that turned out like this:

I guess in a way, I've come back around to peach and green and Christmas time haven't I?

I've loved you back to life...

When we came to live at Rosehaven Cottage (before it became Rosehaven Cottage) things were pretty barren around the non-existent gardens. There were a few rosebushes around the property that had been hacked off (some to the ground) along with a pomegranate that had also received the same treatment.

One rose that grows along our fence line was chopped to the ground. I didn't even know it was there until it started sending its canes forth as if to say it still wanted to live. Now, gardening wisdom always tells us gardeners that roses which grow from root stock won't be very spectacular in looks or aroma. Something inside told me to ignore that old gardeners' wisdom. I let this one grow from the canes it was sending up.

I'm glad I did.

This lovely pink rose (of unknown variety) rewards me every year with unseasonal blooms. So when the rest of the garden is bleak looking, there will be these amazing, large, pink, blooms beckoning to me from the back of the garden. The bloom pictured above was offered to me on Christmas Day 2007. Talk about a wonderful Christmas gift from the garden!

This rose is an old rose. At its base, I unearthed a dedicatory plaque that the former owners had put in to celebrate the construction of a covered lanai that we've since had to take down. The plaque reads 1961. I imagine that the rose was planted with the plaque and is over 40 years old now. It's seen a lot, I'm sure.

Our neighbor (that has been here since 1961) told us that the back of our garden used to have a Hawaiian theme with a small rock waterfall and the lanai. That must have been what the pink rose was planted into. But all the Hawaiian beauty was in ruins when we arrived and completely unrecognizable. However, now that part of the garden has become MY "Hawaii garden". The pink rose must find this very interesting that things have come round full circle.

As I was creating the above image I thought it deserved a vintage look.
A big thank you for the old paper texture from playingwithbrushes.
A second texture is from PhotoshopRoadmap.

The Garden Puts On Its Autumn Frock

As the days get shorter and the nights get chillier here in the San Francisco Bay Area, the garden is putting on its unique autumn attire. Our autumn color may come later than in other climates, but it still comes nonetheless. And I love it when it does. It all happens in time for Thanksgiving and that makes it even more special.

In the spring this hydrangea is a pure white. But with the onset of autumn the petals of the blooms as well as the leaves don a wonderful deep pink.

It's as if nature is burnishing them with the deep russet tones of autumn as decor for the upcoming Thanksgiving holiday.

Alone and less fantastic than its summer siblings, an autumn "Abraham Darby" bloom still puts on a show in front of the reddened hydrangea.


[In case you're wondering, that's an "Abraham Darby" in my blog header. It's my favorite rose in the garden.]

My puzzling "Princess Di" bower vine (that's only "supposed" to bloom from May to June), still has many white blooms on it that look enchanting in the November light. I was taking shots of this blossom when suddenly this bee zips in to grab a snack. I clicked the shutter just in time before the bee took off again.

Click on the image to see the bee and its silhouette larger.

And remember my unseasonable October apple blossoms? [If you don't click here.]

Well, I decided to leave them on the tree and now I've got a nice crop of what I'm calling "encore apples"! They aren't very big yet. But I figure that most apple trees like cooler weather and these apples may get big enough so that by the time we have our first frost some time in December, they'll be ready for harvesting. Hubby and I were actually able to harvest one apple off this tree from the first batch of the year. It was the first time we've ever been able to eat anything from the tree. It was a very nice and delicious little Pippin.

Creation of my "Rose Nostalgia Collection"

Since the majority of my roses in the garden were developed or introduced long after the era of the vintage botanical print, I thought it might be a fun idea to take some of the photographs I've shot of my roses in bloom into Photoshop and see if I could create images that looked like vintage botanical prints.

I started out with the "America Rose". It's the one I did all my experimenting with to find the right process for making this idea happen. Thankfully, a Flickr friend of mine (playingwithbrushes) has a wonderful set of free textures on Flickr that she's photographed and scanned from around her farm and home. Included are some old book pages that she's scanned. They're perfect for what I wanted!

After I completed the "America" rose, I really wanted to try my hand at some others. So the next one was the "Blue Ribbon" rose:


And then the "Janice Kellogg" rose:


The latest one I've completed is the "Montezuma" rose:


I'm calling these images my "Rose Nostalgia Collection" and I'm planning on doing one for every rose variety in my garden (except the mystery roses that I can't identify). It's a real treat to transform these photographs and watch them turn into vintage illustrations with the use of the modern technology of Photoshop and my Wacom Cintiq 12" digital tablet.

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I have chosen to scale back my emphasis on selling my work
and, instead, to emphasize sharing it for free via the digital image online.
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Autumn Rose

Our extended summer has even prompted the somewhat picky "Irish Cream" rose to bloom a third time this year. I was really taken with the caramel color of the full blown bloom against the backdrop of the Japanese maple tree that's just beginning to turn. Since I was younger, I've always thought of autumn roses in a special way. Maybe it's the light that shines down on them, illuminating their petals in a magical way.