I wish you could smell this rose. This is a Noisette rose called ‘Jaune Desprez’ (Desprez, France, 1835). The individual blooms are not the most beautifully shaped in all creation but it blooms reliably and grows pretty vigorously.
Tagged With: Noisette
Last summer Kevin helped me build this rose trellis. The roses haven’t had a chance to fill in completely but it’s starting to look pretty good.
On the right is ‘Champneys’ Pink Cluster’ (Champneys, U.S., 1811). Although it isn’t really a climbing rose the support is helpful, anyway. On the left is ‘Crépuscule’ (Francis Dubreuil, France, 1904). Both of them are Noisette roses and bloom pretty well off and on all summer. ‘Crépuscule’ has the stronger scent but both are nice in that regard.
This rose has taken a bit longer to get established than the others but it’s starting to look pretty good. ‘Blush Noisette’ (Noisette, France, before 1817) is a pretty little rose with a terrific fragrance. If you’re counting, this is the fourth and final Noisette rose in my garden. It’s not actually in full bloom yet, having a half dozen buds for every open flower.
Rose ‘Champneys’ Pink Cluster’
One more rose picture and then I’ll move on to something else for a little while. On the south end of the house I have this ‘Champneys’ Pink Cluster’ growing. Like the ‘Perle d’Or’ featured yesterday, this didn’t have any problem this winter. I’m convinced the death and near death of the roses in the back are location-related. Anyway, this one is fine. It’s a fairly tall, somewhat gangly thing but it does have these nice, pink blossoms off and on throughout the summer. That garden has become somewhat overgrown recently and is in desperate need of attention, possibly to the point of digging it out almost completely and starting over. There is bindweed (a.k.a. morning glory, Ipomoea purpurea) throughout. But this rose I would keep. ‘Champneys’ Pink Cluster’ is the first of the Noisette roses, bred by John Champneys in South Carolina circa 1811. It is a cross Rosa moschata and either ‘Parsons’ Pink China’ or ‘Champneys’ Bengal Rose’.
Also, dig the little, unidentified plant bug on the flower on the left.
‘Champneys’ Pink Cluster’
We’re coming up to the peak of rose season. Many roses bloom all summer, of course, and we naturally love that about them. But even those that repeat bloom start the season with the best display of the year. This rose, a Noisette rose bred by Champneys in 1811, is a reliable repeat bloomer but it is getting set to be absolutely covered with flowers. It is growing on the south end of our house where it gets plenty of sun and seems to be fairly happy. We need to work to keep the bindweed off of it, but other than that, it requires little care. And such a pretty little thing.
Champneys’ Pink Cluster
This is a difficult rose to photograph well. First, it’s quite tall and most of the blooms are right at the top, about eight feet from the ground. Second, it’s against the south wall of our house, which is brick but not the most attractive background. It was also cloudy today and the rose wasn’t in the bright sun, which would have been nice. But I wanted to be sure to include a photo of this rose, as it’s doing quite well this year. This is one of four roses that survived the great rose dying of last year. It’s by far the tallest of them but the other on the end of the house, which nearly died a few years back, has to potential to be much larger, if it can continue its come back.
Crépuscule is a word we don’t see very often and in fact, when I bought this rose (a Noisette rose bred by Francis Dubreuil in France in 1904), I had to look up its meaning. Recently, reading The Tale of Genji, I actually came across the adjectival form of the word in English, crepuscular. I admit that I had to remind myself of its meaning, which is ‘twilight’. I had thought this rose dead a few years ago after a particularly cold spell killed it back to the ground. As it started growing up again, I didn’t know if it was on a different root stock or not, but now that it’s blooming again, I know that it’s on its own roots. It still hasn’t fully recovered and it’s nowhere near as big as it was. It’s growing on a frame on the end of the house that’s about 12 feet high and was up to the top of it before dying back.