Loyal Lover of the Yellow Rose

Written by: Margaret Pless, summer intern

Perhaps an interest in flowers is genetic. I come from a mother who treasures her gardenia bushes and their blossoms like some women treasure fine jewelry.  My father planted an olive tree in the smack middle of our backyard. I’m not sure whether it was the barrage of kickballs or the Alabama humidity, but the olive tree never really prospered. My parents’ garden, however, abounded with both the beautiful and the useful, from mint and rosemary, to lamb’s ear, irises and gladiolus.

 But I am hopeful that a knowledge and enjoyment of flowers is not just genetic but acquired. I have had little experience with flowers in my twenty years. But as a lover of art and of the aesthetically pleasing aspects of life, I am confident that my love for flowers will only grow as I am surrounded by them here at flower magazine this summer. As a rising senior at Vanderbilt with a hodgepodge of majors and minors in English, History, and Art History, I am thrilled to add flowers to my ever-growing (hopefully forever growing) list of interests.

From childhood, my favorite flower has always been a yellow rose. I remember stopping by the Birmingham Botanical Garden with my mom in the late spring when the rose garden was coming to life. The red roses always seemed too cliché for my cynical taste; pink, too, was overdone. And so I gravitated towards the brightest, fattest, most vivacious rose in the garden: a yellow one. I have loyally loved yellow roses ever since. 

Courtesy of Barnsley Gardens

Courtesy of Barnsley Gardens

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1 Response so far »

  1. 1

    Flowers said,

    I love yellow rose. They looks so beautiful. Keep it up the good work.


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