When we first moved into our apartment, there was this pitiful little rosebush embedded in the patio. We learned over time that this was Lily, the somewhere-between-12-and-17 year old yellow rosebush who, sadly, lost her twin when the last tenant of this apartment tore her out before asking permission.
Lily was a sad little rosebush. Our neighbor had been watering her while no one lived here, but she had been neglected. When she stopped flowering in Fall, Roommate trimmed her back and we hoped she wouldn’t die over the winter. She was very emaciated and we feared we might have killed her.
Well, we’re not very afraid anymore. Yesterday, I saw the first bud of the season. That has fully blossomed and another TWENTY young buds have appeared, as well as an incredible plumage of fresh spring leaves. She looks like a fluffed up cat – if cats were yellow-rose bushes.