This summer, a swooning, prolific bloom has finally charmed my wife, but I’m confused by a changeling
Henri has finally fallen in love with the Rosa x odorata ‘Bengal Crimson’. She was at first impervious to its charms. It has an oddly elusive scent for its name, with the dusky, cherry-coloured flowers suggested, like a lipstick a 1950s film star might wear. An Ava Gardner flower.
It was a gift from Howard, bought back from Great Dixter; a tender-seeming plant, single-flowering, skinny-stemmed, sometimes swooning, as though overwhelmed with the weight of roses. Its loose petals loll around as though exhausted from blooming through much of the winter and still pumping out new flowers, repeatedly. It doesn’t appear to have thorns. But as it has grown on Henri, it has filled out, tripling in size, maybe more, this year.
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