Late September, trimming roses. Perhaps a bit early - some still have blooms, but soon the cold season will be here.
Put on my gloves and reach inside a rose bush, taking each branch carefully in hand (mindful of the thorns) and nipping each one. The roses are a beautiful and vibrant magenta, so unlike anything around them - everything else is background green and brown. If I trim them well, they will come back next year even more beautiful than before.
Distracted by a bloom I reach in my hand to grab another stem - too hard and a thorn goes through the glove into my hand.
Pull back; the momentary shock of pain that makes you curse and furrow your brow. I blame the rose. I take off my glove and see just below the leather a trickle of blood going down my hand. The blood of good intention. I was only trying to help.
But be as mad as I want, skin pricked for a moment, I'm cursing the thing I'm trying to help. And the rose retaught me the lesson of why it has thorns. The rose just wants to grow and protect itself.
And I learn this lesson again, as I stand here dumbly, with blood on my hand and a rose in a trash can.
Gardening is sometimes a tough job. for sure those thorns are meant to protect those roses.
I didn't get around to cutting back our rose bushes this past fall. I think I should still have some time this Spring before the warm weather starts to come. It has just been too cold lately to do anything outside. I was just telling @mrsbozz the other day that we need to get some new mulch for our flower beds...