I wait for these roses every spring. They are thoroughly neglected and grow inside a beautiful and expensive wrought iron fence. It's an odd house. The curtains are always drawn. It is big. No one is ever in the garden, and all these beautiful David Austen roses grow along the fence.
Those roses are right across the street from my B-pad. One of the glories of the 'hood. Last year they had a pool behind the fence; it was bigger than my bedroom, but I never saw anybody in the water.
ReplyDeleteI remember the pool. All very o.d.d.
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