Canary Bird

Jane, who lives across the yard from me, has the tiniest slit of a garden border which currently sports the earliest and best yellow rose of all, Canary Bird. I’ve never grown it, because I haven’t room for something large and rangy which it normally is, sending out great spurs which reach seven feet.  But with her Canary Bird, Jane clips it in due course so tightly that when it blooms it’s just a ball of golden flowers.

Slight scent when the sun is on it, which in Bay Tree Yard is only half the day.  It usually flowers again in August or so, and its ferny leaves are so fine and delicate it’s pleasant even when it isn’t.

I feel my usual greed seeing something belonging to someone else.  Already decided where my Canary will go.