Mutta kuka oli Cécile Brunner?
But who was Cécile Brunner?
Päivitys: Denis toimitti sähköpostiin lintulinkit, kiitos! Huomatkaa satiinilavastajanaaraan safiirinsininen silmä. Aikuinen koiras näyttää tältä.)
Istutin aamusumussa Celesten antaman tomaatintaimen (Roma-lajiketta, vähähappoinen ja hyvä kastiketomaatti) ja harrastin täydennyskylvöä: kahdesta lyhyestä hernerivistä toinen oli mennyt parempiin suihin - tai nokkiin, veikkaan huilukorppeja tai satiinilavastajia, jotka ovat herkutelleet myös mansikoillani. Katti (ei oma) oli kaivanut ylös kurkuntaimia, ja kolmen viikkoa sitten kylvetty salaattirivi oli itänyt huonosti. Yleinen ongelma salaatinsiemenien kohdalla täällä päin, ja neuvona tarjotaan siemenpussin sujauttamista jääkaappiin muutaman viikon kylmäkäsittelyyn itävyyden palauttamiseksi. Tällä kertaa uudet siemenet tulivat kuitenkin uudesta pussista.
Etupihan vähän liian varjoisaan ruusupenkkiin viime vuonna istutettu englantilainen David Austinin Grace-ruusu (yläkuvassa) oli kehitellyt kaksi kaunista, aprikoosinväristä kukkaa. Lehdet ovat vähän hennon väriset, ja viime vuonna koko pensas näytti loppukesästä aika kurjalta. Olisi epäilemättä kaivannut huolellisempaa hoitoa kuivina kuukausina. Mutta tuoksu on oikea ruusun tuoksu, vaikkakin hento sellainen.
Suloinen tuoksu on myös ihanassa Cécile Brunner -napinläpiruusussa (alempi kuva), joka tuli aikanaan Andylle talon mukana. Nimen kukalle tiesi Denis, ja netistä selviää, että tästä vuonna 1881 jalostetusta ruususta on olemassa myös valtavan suureksi kasvava köynnöstävä versio. Terveen ja kauniin pensaan nuput ovat niin täydellisiä, peukalonpään kokoisia ruusun nuppuja kuin kuvitella saattaa. Lyhytikäisiä tosin ovat, en ole viitsinyt maljakkoon edes kokeilla, nuppujen kauneus katoaa pian. Napinläpeen todellakin omiaan, ja hiekassa näitä varmaan voisi kuivattaa, jos harrastaisi sellaista. Englanniksi kutsuvat myös nimellä Sweetheart Rose. Mutta kuka lie ollut Cécile?
(Update: bird links courtesy of Denis.)
Currawongs and Bowerbirds have made our backyard their living room. Especially Currawongs are walking around in a most peculiar manner, checking and sampling, digging out plants in my new water feature and pulling and stretching the pantyhose ties that I have used to support some shrubs. I realised the birds were eating my strawberries that were still far from ripe, so I covered the bushes with netting, and after two days we had a bowl of surprisingly tasty berries. (Strawberries are usually a disappointment in Australia. I can say this, having grown in a family of strawberry farmers.)
I did some more sowing, mostly because some hungry beak had helped itself to a small row of peas (another row had germinated nicely). A cat (not ours) had dug up some cucumber seedlings, and some lettuce needed to be sown again. The seeds don't always germinate very well, and I am told I could try putting them in the fridge for a couple of weeks before sowing.
An English rose that I planted last year, David Austin's Grace (see the topmost image) had produced two beautiful, apricot coloured blooms. The rose bed is a bit too shady, but it has some reliable if modest roses that flower several times each summer.
My favourite is probably Cécile Brunner (2nd image), with tiny, pale pink buds not much bigger than a thumbnail. Denis gave me the name and told that it is often referred to as a buttonhole rose. I can see why, although the blooms don't really last very long when picked. I wonder who Cécile was? I see that the rose was bred in France in 1881, so maybe she was a beauty of the French Belle époque - or was that a bit later...?
Comments - Kommentit
DATE: 2:18 PM
The saddest thing about modern roses (ie not bred in 1881!) is that they seem to lose their scent. I went to someone's final university recital the other day; they were showered with shop-flowers but by far the most beautiful was the fat, old-fashioned, gloriously-scented rose posie plucked from someone's garden and then wrapped, in true home-grown-style, in aluminium foil.My favourite rose is a deep musky-pink one called Love Potion. My mother bought one for me to plant after I survived a large and traumatic piano exam; woe to the Australian soil in my part of the world that failed to meet its need for nourishment! But the inner west of Sydney, strangely enough, seems to have wonderful rose-growing soil: in particular, I recall a row of little wooden Federation cottages all different pastel colours but united by the crisp white roses that were flourishing all over their fences. Lovely!
Posted by: Anonymous | February 23, 2006 06:17 PM
DATE: 5:23 PM
Hope that, one day, you can find some soil which suits Roses. It is good to have a "favourite Rose". I don't know "Love Potion", but some of the breeders are re-discovering Scent. Personally, for me, nothing comes close to the tough, old-fashioned ones. Perfumed, but almost indestructable.Roses love clay soils, and summer heat, so of all the places in this Wide Brown Land of ours, Mildura and Adelaide grow the very best Roses of all. Early summer in Sydney can be good. But wet summers bring on black spot, etc. Still the first flush of flowering is usually good.In Robertson, I have deliberately chosen the once-a-season flowering old-fashioned roses, as they always get their flowering done, and then can rest over the summer. They are so lovely, and flower very heavily, then have a long rest. Perfumes one can normally only remember from childhood, are still alive in the old french beauties.
Posted by: Denis | February 23, 2006 06:17 PM
DATE: 1:36 PM
Yes, and I realise I should have mentioned my all-time favourite, the simple, thorny rugosa rose that seems to grow equally well in Robbo and in South-Eastern Finland. Talking about fragrance!
Posted by: ah | February 23, 2006 06:17 PM