Missing Eden

Yesterday evening, making my nightly rounds through the garden, I came upon a full-blown mystery.  Several days ago, I had noticed that the bi-colored Meilland rose 'Eden Rose '88', also known as 'Pierre de Ronsard' or by its patent name, MEIviolin, had begun to open up its blooms for me.

'Eden Rose '88', 2 days ago, rain damaged,

You should be made aware that, although I've grown this rose for a number of years and although I've given it a prime south-west facing spot, I've just never been strongly impressed by this rose.  It may have been named "The World's Favorite Rose" byWorld Federation Of Rose Societies, but it just doesn't perform that well here in Kansas.  Oh, no doubt, I love the fully double bloom form with its creamy-white petals delicately ringed in pink.  But the bush itself has had no vigor or hardiness for me, dying back to the ground each winter despite my efforts to protect it.  And the canes of this rose seem weaker than most to the Kansas wind.   It was, in fact, the first rose to teach me to pinch off new basal canes before they reached a three foot height, less they be split at the base by a strong gust. It is supposed to be a short climber, reaching eight or nine feet tall, but I've never seen it top three feet before the wind or winter prune it back.  And finally, it is quite susceptible to blackspot late in the season, losing most of the dark leaves overnight if I don't keep my eye on it.  It often forces me to break my non-spraying ethics.

'Eden Rose '88' today, nipped in the bud

But, back to the current puzzlement, I noticed last evening that every single half-open bud of this rose had been clipped off overnight.  Not clipped off as if it had been properly deadheaded to the next outside-facing bud, but just the buds themselves had all been removed; at least all the buds that had been in the process of opening.  Even more perplexing, right next to 'Eden Rose '88', the plump buds of  'Prairie Star', 'Cuthbert Grant', 'Ballerina', and 'Louise Odier' were completely untouched, as was, upon further inspection the rest of the roses in my garden.  And worse yet, the next day the entire rose was trimmed down to about 6 inches, except for the 3 foot tall single cane at the right.

Why, pray tell me, did some wicked creature of the night single out 'Eden Rose '88' for its palate?  I cannot believe, as She Who I Have to Humor (Mrs. ProfessorRoush) hypothesized, that this rose was that much sweeter to the tastebuds than any of the others. I think that's about as likely as someone or something taking offense that 'Eden Rose '88' was actually introduced in 1987, a modern cross of 'Danse des Sylphes' and the pink and white climber 'Handel'  with 'Pink Wonder Climbing'.  Or something taking offense that the same rose-breeding family introduced another rose named 'Eden Rose' in 1950, a pink rose not to be confused with the modern climber.  There were no tracks in the area to help identify the fiendish culprit, so unless we are to blame a freakishly large hovering hummingbird, I am at a loss to even guess at a possible motive or suspect.  I did take the precaution of applying my standard deer repellant in the area (see this post).  I should take the destruction as a sign and spade prune this rose once and for all.  But there's just something about this rose......something that only an insane, crazed, night-pruning monster could love.

Golden Celebration

If there has been a bright spot in this rainy May of rose floriferousness failures, it has been the way that the English rose 'Golden Celebration' has begun to grow on me.  I've never been a great fan of the English roses, but this year I would be hard pressed to tell you why.  'Heritage' has always been a standout in my front garden, but after 'The Dark Lady' sulked for several years, and 'Mary Rose' dwindled in the shade, and 'Benjamin Britton' failed to wow me with color, I was less than enthusiastic about adding more of that tribe to my garden.  This year, all these and more have perked up to be the stars of my garden, perhaps not coincidentally in a year where May has been as cold and rainy as the British climate they were bred and chosen for.  Could it be that simple?

My 'Golden Celebration' is beginning its third year in my garden and it is quickly becoming the blooming apple of my eye.  It is about three foot tall and wide now, completely free of blackspot to this point, and it blooms like a cup-shaped sunbeam in the midst of the dreary rain-soaked garden. Yes, very double 3-4 inch flowers bend over with each rain, but a little sunshine perks up them back up to face the sky.  That bright golden-yellow color, reminiscent to me of 'Graham Thomas', does not seem to fade from bud open to the fall of those hundreds of notched petals.  One reason for my change in heart about this rose is its fragrance.  I knew 'Golden Celebration' was a fragrant rose, but I had occasion to compare it this week against 'Variegata de Bologna' and 'Madame Hardy'.  To my immense surprise, there was no contest.  'Golden Celebration' now gets the prize for the strongest fragrance in my rose garden, a heady fragrance like  fruity tea.

'Golden Celebration' (AUSgold) is a 1992 introduction by David Austin but it was slow to cross the Atlantic. It is supposed to mature at four feet tall and I expect it to reach that height this year.  This child of 'Charles Austin' and 'Abraham Darby' seems to be cane hardy here in Zone 5b and I saw no dieback at all this past winter.  I've never grown 'Charles Austin', but this specimen of 'Golden Celebration' seems much more vigorous and hardy than 'Abraham Darby', of whom I killed several before I gave it up as a lost cause.  Right now, as 'Golden Celebration' takes its rightful place as a star in my garden, the only drawback I can see to it is that I planted it too close to an own-root start of 'Double Delight', which it threatens to overwhelm soon.  I'll undoubtedly move the 'Double Delight', since I now can't risk losing 'Golden Celebration'.

Addendum 6/4/12;  I feel obligated to add that in July of 2011, and now in June of 2012, Golden Celebration has proven to be somewhat susceptible to blackspot and may not be suitable in a non-spray garden.  The lower leaves have dropped and a fair portion of the foliage is affected.

Rose Season Called Off

wah-wahnt...wah-wahnt..wah-wahnt...We interrupt your regularly scheduled garden blog for this important weather announcement:  There will be no regularly scheduled finale to the garden rose season in the Flint Hills because of inclement weather, botrytis blight, wind, and general calamity.

I declare the drought here officially ended as of last night, but I also entirely give up on the roses this year.  Every time recently that we have had a few days of sun and something approaching a normal blossom was starting to open, either the skies or the north winds opened up their attack on my garden and put the kibosh on every rose that was in the process of developing a bud.

As of noon yesterday, we had received 11.14 inches of rain since January 1st, 2011, and we were still 1.6 inches behind average (although that was better than the 5 inches we were behind at the start of May).   Forecasters predicted a 30% chance of rain for Manhattan during the day and evening of June 1st.  During the day, two small showers came through and my two rain gauges (one near the house and the other in the vegetable garden), registered a respectable 0.4 inches of rain when I emptied them at 6:30 p.m.  Then, about 10:00 p.m., a lightning storm and downpour started that continued through 4:00 a.m.  I woke up several times during the storm, checking to see if we were under a tornado warning and believing we had successive bands of rain moving past.  At 3:00 a.m., I was considering investigating the exact length that comprises a "cubit" in case I had need of it.  Unusually for this area, it was not successive fast-moving bands, but a single tropical storm that formed and sat on us all night long.  The radar picture above, captured courtesy of my new Ipad2, looked almost exactly the same during the whole night.

This morning, my rain gauges both registered 4.7 inches of rain.  Since they are only 5 inch gauges, I don't know if we that is all that fell in the past 12 hours or whether the gauges filled at some point and the additional drops coming in were splashing out more then they added.  So the 5.1+ inches of rain I recorded should put the area out of the drought, at least temporarily.  The yard and beds are sopping wet and my anticipated roses are hanging down limply off their stems.  Such is the life of a rose-nut in the Kansas Flint Hills.  In the next few weeks I'll post a few more rose blogs, but the best pictures will have to wait for the second wave of the remonant roses.  If, and only if, they don't bake in the July sun.

Turning on the news this morning, I almost felt guilty for planning this blog after finding out that Springfield Massachusetts was hit by a tornado last night.   Killer tornados in Massachusetts?  Good grief, what's next?  A tidal wave in the Great Plains?