Wild Roses

On a day in early May, after a refreshing rain, suddenly all the wild roses on my property began to bloom.                                       

At first the yellow center of the flower seemed bedraggled and badly groomed, but this did not deter the tiny bees and bee-like insects who were immediately drawn by the sweet scent.

The buds,  when closed, promise a strong pink color, but this year most of the petals on the open flowers have turned out so pale that they almost are white.

Only deeper in the woods do the wild roses blush pink.

Is it the sun that bleached the other roses white? In the sunlight, by the fence line, the small carpenter bees are contorting themselves with delight at this find.

What a delight these wild roses are to these small asocial counterparts of the common bee!

The wild roses can be found everywhere, even by the old, rusty and shot-at mailbox.

Cultivated roses are dainty, but we can all delight in the wild rose that needs no help to grow, bloom and propagate itself. None but the birds and the bees and the wind and the rain know its secrets.