The Rose bush in front of my house has been there since the beginning of time.
From my first day of kindergarden at PS 179 to my last day of College, it has always blossomed. It has endured countless hits from stray hockey pucks and baseballs. Not to mention being a holder for an empty beer bottle or two during the 70's. The damn thorns are so sharp they can go right through the thickest of leather gloves, and they love to scratch the paint on your car if you get too close. Yes, that rose bush has always been tougher than "nails" and almost legendary on East 4th.
Recently I ordered one of those pictures from the city, they are tax photographs of every house taken back in the late 30's. I was fortunate to get one of my house. It is amazing to see what wonderful detail the house once had. My "Home Depot" glue on moldings are a far stretch from the original wood ones, but oh well, thats progress.
After getting over the lost detail of my house, I turned my attention to the garden in the front. And there it was, just a little smaller, but still it was there.
Yes, that same old rose bush.
And you know what, I never maintain it. I have no clue when it comes to plants. I just let Mother Nature take over. No, Mr. Brooklyn only knows Plymouths not plants.
And I know someday when I'm long gone, it will still be there. Just scratching the side of a "Hydrogen" powered car and being the subject of another blog in the far distant future.
Yes, that same old rose bush, it will always be there.