A Rose by any other name

This is a vintage rose. It was planted in the 1950's at a home I sold four years ago. It climbs a pergola every spring and when it brings forth it's gorgeous blooms, the fragrance is absolutely divine. It seems to thrive on neglect now as the new homeowner is not into gardening. I pass my former house daily and I check the progress of the forsythia bush I planted. It was a birthday gift from my mother about nine years ago and has grown into quite a beauty. Always the first to signal spring ' s arrival, the forsythia is a favourite of mine. But alas, I digress. Back to the rose I must go. I have used cuttings from this climbing rose to decorate bridal tables and even to send them afloat with a Japanese candle down the river when my Hawaiian friend Kai took the giant leap several years ago. There is something so special about homegrown flowers; something so personal about the harvesting; the careful display that clearly calls out the love behind it. So, here's to the vintage rose and may she continue to arrive each spring for another seventy years or more!
This is a screen shot of a picture I took with my camera when I still knew how to use one!