By Carolyn Parker

I barely had a chance to smell my own roses this spring. During our garden's peak bloom, I was in Louisiana for 10 days on rose author business.

Louisiana is a lush and fertile state. Frequent showers keep it green and gorgeous. Waterways (bayous) abound. Pecan, pine, live oak and cypress trees form verdant backdrops to rural garden settings, and it's not unusual to see one, five, and even 10-acre lawns.

Part of the fun in a rose life is meeting fellow rose lovers near and far. We tend to speak the same language of rapture, whether we are exhibitors or aren't, whether we prefer old or modern roses, own-root or budded plants. Differences don't matter, because it's really a language of the heart.

While sitting at a garden party in conversation with three rose ladies, we compared notes on roses that do well in the South. Chinas, Teas and Noisettes thrive there, and they do well here, too. A long growing season and high humidity are a plus for these roses.

Louis Philippe, Cramoisi Superieur, Monsieur Tillier and G. Nabonnand were favorite rose finds these women told me they'd rustled for their gardens. Rustling roses means searching historic cemeteries and old neighborhoods for cuttings.

Guns and roses

When our discussion turned to pests, I blushed inwardly several times. The harmful bugs I wrote about in last month's column pale in comparison to what Louisiana rose gardeners deal with — fire ants, copperheads and armadillos.

These women told me they couldn't grow roses without a gun.

"When my husband wakes up at 3 a.m. to the sound of gunshot," said Peggy Martin, "he turns over and goes back to sleep because he knows it's just me, out in the garden, hunting armadillos."

"Peggy Martin" also is the name of a rose that has received much acclaim since Hurricane Katrina. Peggy told me the story of how her home and garden of more than 400 roses were completely decimated by the storm. Her Plaquemines Parish property was under saltwater for two weeks — everything died.

She returned to denuded trees, black sticks and gray mud; a scene that reminded her of the devastation at Hiroshima after the atomic blast.

Sign of life

As she walked the property, she noticed a leafy spot of green on an old shed that had been covered in rambling roses. It was the only living thing, and it appeared to be thriving. She soon realized it was the bright pink rose she had received as a cutting from an elderly lady who told her the rose was Seven Sisters.

Once Peggy grew the rose, she soon realized it was not Seven Sisters. She spent a good deal of time, to no avail, trying to find its identity. She told rose expert Dr. Bill Welch about the lone survivor. He was so impressed that he named the rose after Peggy and asked her if she would consent to featuring it in a garden restoration project for the Gulf South.

Martin sent cuttings to rose nurseries, and now thousands of dollars have been raised to benefit replanting public spaces in Louisiana, Mississippi, and Texas.

Peggy gave me one of her roses when I visited her new home and garden in Gonzalez, La. It's now thriving here in California. To order a Peggy Martin rose for your own garden, contact one of the nurseries below:

Antique Rose Emporium, 9300 Lueckemeyer Road, Brenham, TX 77833, 800-441-0002.

Chamblee's Rose Nursery, 10926 U.S. Highway 69 North, Tyler, TX 75706, 800-256-7673.

Roses and water

We don't have hurricanes, thank goodness, but we do have drought this year. In a previous drought, I found that my roses did very well with one deep watering a week.

It's best not to fertilize roses at this time. Promoting new growth under stress wouldn't be beneficial.

Make sure all your garden plants have a thick layer of mulch to retain moisture.

COLUMN ARCHIVE