Residing along the southern wall of the home of my youth was a Peace Rose bush. It survived and thrived with little human attention, mostly because there was always enough sun and rain to sustain it.

The blooms weren’t abundant and there was very little growth from year to year, but the gentle, soothing pastel flowers always brought a sense of peacefulness and well-being. The host plant graciously allowed us a few beautiful blooms for indoor display.

These peace-filled memories were the catalyst for planting a beautiful, bold, red rose bush in the garden of my adulthood. I granted it a place of honor along the southern wall, residing among petunias, sunflowers, azaleas, morning glories and assorted fruits and vegetables.

All summer long it thrived and bloomed and grew to magnificent proportions. It fed the bees and the butterflies and the soul of anyone who sampled its soft scents and sacred beauty.

As happens in nature, the seasons changed, and the garden withered and prepared for winter dormancy. The roses stood valiant until mid-October, long after the other garden residents had dried and died. Eventually the rose too, readied for winter survival.

With shears and sheer determination, I naively approached the plot and commenced pulling, pruning and prepping for winter. The tomatoes, cucumbers, sunflowers and petunias gave up the ghost without a fight. The grapevine graciously succumbed. The morning glories were fighters. Though dead, the twining vines remained wrapped around the trellis in a death grip. Cutting, chopping and more were needed to release the Glories from their summer support.

My gracious rose was the last to be shaped and pruned. Had I known then what I know now, I would have been more prepared; with chain saw, chain mail, flame thrower, bazooka and grenades. You see, I have discovered……ROSES BITE BACK!

First a jab, then fake right, fake left, dance a little, float like a butterfly, sting like a bee………well, you get the picture. It wasn’t a pretty encounter. By the final bell, the contenders in both corners were bloodies and battered.

A worthy opponent is my rebellious rose. Upon reflection, I have come to the conclusion that the rose bush is in cahoots with the morning glories to take over the garden…….the yard……the world!!