Intoxicating

Intoxicating

Noel Laflin

5-4-19

Mr. Lincoln was laid to rest in Springfield, Illinois on this day in 1865.

I thought of the anniversary as I sprayed water from a forceful nozzle up into the climbing rose bush, a variety also named Mr. Lincoln. It was the name that led me to choose the bare root rose so long ago - as well as the scent. Those blooms, and there are so many right now, are beautifully intoxicating. The water trick is how I cheat at removing spent leaves and blossoms. I could not do that last summer as a hummingbird decided to make a nest at the top of Mr. Lincoln. But since there is no sign of that this spring, the hose was put back in service.

I watched as blood-red petals and rainbow-infused sprays of water rained back down upon both me and the garden.

That rose bush is thirty years old now, and taller than me by twice my height. Heck, it’s even taller than the original Mr. Lincoln himself – and he was a giant among men.

But the treatment was effective in removing brown leaves and spent flowers. And the scent of all those falling blood-red petals was intoxicating.

And there was no hummingbird's home to worry about either.