The Rose Tree Is No More

For a long time Tom wanted to grow a Paul's Himalayan Musk rose.  It is a rambler that can attain monumental proportions, and has a delicate sweet scent wafting from its profusion of tiny soft pink blossoms. About ten years ago we bought one and planted it under a sweet cherry tree that never produced any fruit.

The rose grew well, living up to its reputation.  The above photo was taken in June of last year.  But, alas, the tree died, as we knew it probably eventually would. 

This winter we were faced with a decision.  It was time to cut the rose back and remove the tree.  Tom planned to then build a wooden arbor for the rose to grow back on.


Tom armed himself with leather gloves, a face mask, and old Gore Tex jacket, lopping shears and chain saw, and went to work.

 It took quite a few days to bring it all down, cut up all the long rose canes, log the tree, and bundle up the briers. 

And when he got this far, he began to think about all the work of building an arbor and then having to prune that rose every year to keep it from becoming a pile of bramble. 

He made a new decision, of which I was in complete agreement. 
We took out the rose altogether. 

 We cleaned up the bed, dug and divided perennials, moved in a forsythia in that was in a crowded place in the yard, transplanted a couple of shrub roses, a shrub out of a patio pot, and have room for a couple more small shrubs that we will purchase.

Will we miss this?

Yes, but only in the month of June.  Not the rest of the summer and fall when it is dropping petals and black spotted leaves.

Change happens.