Skip to main content

Red-leaved Rose


Rosa glauca (rubrifolia)
This rose was not widely grown in gardens until the end of the 19th century, when its refined wildness and beauty out of the flowering season first began to be appreciated.  It is a native to the mountains of central and southern Europe, from the Spanish Pyrenees east to Bulgaria, and north to Germany and Poland.

It is a deciduous arching shrub of sparsely bristled and thorny cinnamon-coloured arching canes up to 6ft tall.  Its leaves are glaucous blue-green and covered with a waxy bloom.  They have fragile, clear pink flowers that are produced in clusters.  The fruit is dark red hip.

The hips are early this year as they are not really meant to appear till autumn.  I transplanted it a couple of years ago as it outgrew its space, it is fairly vigorous.  My neighbour has one also which  has grown up the dividing fence and  continues on my side.  It is very striking in the border even though the flowers are short lived.

Comments

  1. Love this rose! We grow it at the Waveny Walled Garden, a project that my Garden CLub continues to maintain for our town.

    ReplyDelete
  2. I like that! My dog rose is already covered in hips. Flighty xx

    ReplyDelete
  3. Lovely! I noticed that the hips have developed on the rose shrub at the City Farm (no idea what kind of rose it is, except very large and rambling!) Do you use the hips for anything? I've often wondered about making rose hip jelly, but never actually done it!

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

the rise of the apple and the fall of the oak ...

Sunday
Early morning.  We drove down to the lake for a stroll in the autumn sunshine; the air was chilled in the shadows but the sun was bright.  The water level was still very low; we have had hardly any rain for weeks.  On the spit of land a gaggle of Canada geese preening and resting.  The water still and calm.

 We walked further along the lane, and there just around the bend, my favourite oak tree; a lopsided old thing with winky-wonky branches.  But all was not well.  The trunk had split and there was a gut-wrenching open wound.
 
I loved that old tree and always take a photograph of it when we are down there; a kind of tradition.




Now, half the tree lying on the ground - only fit for firewood - such a shame - I felt really sad.


Monday
Spent the morning pruning the Amelanchier which had outgrown its space.  My neighbour came round with foxglove self-seeders which I planted beneath it now that there is some room.  I have finally come to the end of the garden restoration project -…

Down to Earth ...

A nothing much happened kind of week.  Mostly it rained and rained and rained.  The sun burst through for short periods then hid behind the clouds and it rained again.  The garden is flattened and battered and a soggy mess.  We have had the heating on it has been so chilly - even my pet sheep had their hats and scarves on.


On Monday electricians came and fitted an earthing device.  On Tuesday a different electrician came and earthed us (our earthing spike had deteriorated - whatever that is) - apparently new regs said it had to be done before the house could be signed off as completed.  The electrician also fitted the new ceiling lights to replace the water damaged ones.


And a new desk has been installed to replace the water damaged one.


Next week all the carpets are going to be fitted and voila - we're done.  Hurrah!

Meanwhile back at the ranch - every time the sun came out I rushed into the garden to take some pics of the least damaged flowers.


The view from the kitchen window

the sweet calm sunshine of September ...

" It was a morning of ground mist, yellow sunshine, and high rifts of blue, white-cloud-dappled sky.  The leaves were still thick on the trees, but de-spangled gossamer threads hung on the bushes and the shrill little cries of unrest of the swallows skimming the green open spaces of the park told of  autumn and change." ~ Flora Thompson


September has been a very productive month for me. I have worked hard in the garden with a feeling of racing against time; although, in truth, there is plenty of time to do everything - I just wanted to get it done while the weather was good, so much more pleasant working outside when it is a little warmer, rather than having to wrap up in coats and boots to get it all done.  I have planted every last bulb that I possess; those I saved from last year; those I bought this year; every piece of ground and every container has been put to use - if I don't get a good display in spring then something has gone seriously wrong.


Gardening fo…