Portland, Oregon’s official name is "The City of Roses." I wasn’t sure why until I read that in 1889 the Portland Rose Society planted 20 miles of roses along the city streets, all to help attract tourists to the 1905 Lewis and Clark Exposition. The original 20 miles of roses have now become bazillions of roses planted in squillions of gardens around the city.
There are roses in Gresham, Happy Valley, Hillsboro, Troutdale, along the Willamette, in scores of carefully-tended parks, and even in Portland itself! Though the park roses are lovely, I’ve discovered that some families do an even more incredible job of loving their “home-grown” roses. When you see one of those perfectly-trimmed yards with multi-hued roses glowing like gems in the green, stop. Admire the petals. Notice the shape of the leaves, and how the color changes as the blossoms mature, and how the rose remains beautiful even as the petals succumb to the ravages of heat and humidity. Notice also, how beautiful roses are always surrounded by eager young rosebuds. Remember, many roses are at their loveliest in the evening.
Chances are, the gardener will come out to provide a TOUR OF THE ROSES. Smile brightly. You’re about to meet a new best friend. Now is when you’ll learn that a 16-penny nail and a 4” square of wallboard provide the perfect amount of iron and calcium for a newly-planted rose bush - and that you must “dead-head” religiously so the plant will use its energy to make blossoms rather than seeds. And, (when you’re with The Gardner, there is always more to learn!), that you must plant garlic beneath the roses to chase away aphids and other destructive pests.
Do not pick the roses, but collect their fragrances into that special place you go when discouragement attacks or when you hear the Siren call of loneliness. When those moments come, Stop. Close your eyes. Open your memories and smell the roses. Feel the presence of God. Sense the loving tenderness of His pruning shears, the careful poking of His gardener’s trowel, and the nearness of His love.
Yes, some roses are red, but some are yellow, orange, pink, or a wonderful shade of lavender. Some roses, likely bred with care at the Portland Rose Garden, are orange and yellow and red and crinkly.
No roses are perfect, but all are beautiful.
Roses prefer company, and seem to glow when being admired.
All, according to one note I read, were designed by the Rose of Sharon.