Last Spring when I moved into my tiny green house I planted a garden. Even though at the time my stay there was temporary, I splurged and planted some David Austin roses. Which one did I pick? Gentle Hermione.
She grew with full force this season. Growing almost taller than me. I didn't expect it, but the winter must have been good to her.
If you've never smelled Gentle Hermione, she's a soft, classic, old rose smell. She's very supple, but strong. She's pink in color at first, but fades to a soft blush pink. And, best of all, she doesn't have too many thorns. She's a safe, trusting character.
There's something so classically beautiful about Gentle Hermione. When I think of "Old English Garden Rose", I imagine a rose almost identical to her. I imagine hundred year old paintings and botanical illustrations of pale pink flowers.
Before I pursued floral design, I had dreams of growing flowers. On a large scale. I still have those dreams. They're far away from where I am now, but I know one day if I work hard enough I'll have rows and rows of flowers. I'll wake up with the sun to clip them and wander through them, inspecting, as the sun goes down. The difficult, demanding work sounds enticing to me. All I really want in life is to wake up and smell the scent of dirt and flowers. I've talked to florists that don't believe in farmer florists. They say someone should pick between the two. I do think the relationship between farmer and florist is an important one, however, there is truly no better feeling than arranging with product I've grown myself.