June in Normandy means roses. They are spilling over garden walls, climbing iron gates and tumbling out of flower beds.
The rose has to be the most quintessentially romantic of flowers: perfumed, delicate, and beautifully coloured.
I am rediscovering copper this year, I love the way its colour accompanies the pink of the roses.
Few things give me more pleasure than cutting roses from the garden and bringing them indoors. It feels like the height of luxury, that such beautiful blooms would be willing to grow in my garden. A pleasure I never take for granted.
When we reworked the garden last year, I planted several new roses, and this is the first time I get to see them in bloom. Unfortunately, the name tags I so carefully preserved have mysteriously faded or disappeared, and I am incapable of giving you all the names.
Here are some of the prettiest, picked for you yesterday evening, I hope you enjoy.