Looking at these roses gives me a moment of profound peace. They are heart-breakingly perfect.
They also smell wonderful, especially the pink Abraham Darby: these are the last two roses of a recent flush. I hope there will be more, till the first frost. Frost. Now there is pause for thought.
This is the rose that I was going to chop out of its pot in the spring, so dead did it look. The apricot Pat Austin is covered with buds, and I'm hoping that cooler weather will make them last longer. It is not a heat-resiliant rose at all and each bloom withers within the day. The Darby just keeps on - much tougher.
They had breakfast with us, and had small bites of baguette with lashings of honey.