Wild Roses on Display
Let me tell you about the wild roses in our quiet neighborhood. In this quiet setting, pockets of wilderness covered by uncontrolled growth of ivy, low-growing bushes, and plenty of weeds roam. These pieces of land are protected because a small brook runs through them. And in that wilderness, a wonderful show of wild roses rewards passers-by by their look and their gentle smell. Although I shared some photographs of them in the past, they need to shine on their own.
As you may have guessed, these lots are within my walking distance and only a couple of streets apart from each other. The dark green foliage provides a nice background to an abundance of joyous white flowers. They stand in clumps, sometimes tucked in small cavities in the foliage wall. The flowers are as plain as they come with single-layer white petals. A cluster of yellow stamens with darker, orange tops decorate their centers. But, they almost seem to have an instinct to arrange themselves into pleasing cluster compositions. They are identified by many names, but a wild rose will still be wild by any name.
Short Hops from our House
I have made daily trips to see and photograph the wild roses of the neighborhood. New flowers pop open every day, especially following a little rain. On these short walks, I do not carry a tripod to steady the camera. And, I am discovering more and more that my hands and body are not as stable as they were. Partly due to the camera shake at my end, and the ever-present steady gentle breeze rendered many frames unusable. That’s fine by me! Another excuse to walk down the street, photograph them again and walk to the next street and say hello to the second bunch.
In the following gallery, you will find a bunch of photographs I took on different visits. Depending on the weather and the location of the clump in the foliage wall, their brightness may vary, and even the white balance may be different. I tried to maintain their mood rather than making them conform to an arbitrary external standard.
While writing this post, I remembered an old novel my father used to talk about, Yaban Gülü, which translates to “wild rose.” I don’t recall what was the novel about, but I do remember him using the term on occasion.
Enjoy the show of wild roses. I wish I could share their wonderful smell!
(Click on the thumbnails to see the full-size images, preferably on a large enough screen.)