Happy accident

Green-tomato colours

Green-tomato colours

These hips were cut off by accident.

They were supposed to be left on the rose to feed the birds.

But the little display of green-tomato colours has given me as much pleasure as a florist’s bouquet.

That which we call a rose

Pink roses

How many scoops?

… That which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet

says Juliet, wishing Romeo had a different name.

So are we sure these are roses? They look like ice cream to me; 3 good scoops and some drippy bits.

In Italy, land of ice cream, ‘pink’ and ‘rose’ are the same word.

Pink ice cream, then – water melon flavour, perhaps.

Just what I could do with right now.

A red, red rose

Red rose

Red rose

I’m sure this cluster of roses wasn’t the sort of thing Robert Burns had in mind when he wrote:

My love is like a red, red rose

The line is famous because it demonstrates a simile; the metaphor equivalent would be:

My love is a red, red rose

I’m pleased with these roses, though, because their petals don’t have brown edges like they normally do.

The rain, which is still in evidence on them, is probably the reason for this.