Mistress of the Obvious with Tea Leaf Clusters

[akirlu]

Our temporary building is a bit Brutalist in flavor -- big on concrete and ducts, not so much with the natural materials -- and so I have been bringing in flowers from the garden to give the eye a little relief. Happily, the roses have been having a last mad fling before fall really hits.

And so as I'm walking to the office I stick my nose down in one of the big pink-rimmed yellow teas and have a fine old snootful of aroma. And under the sweet there's another, greener note that's very familiar. Hey that smells just like tea. Freshly brewed, good, fresh tea. Tea? Tea. Rose. Tea rose.

Oh.

So seriously it must be decades that I've known they're called tea roses and never experienced one that explained why. Weird old world.

Comments

[vgqn.livejournal.com]

I've never yet smelled a rose that reminded me of tea. Do you have any idea what variety it was?

[akirlu.livejournal.com]

Not the first clue, unfortunately. I have four rose bushes on the side, all of them old, leggy bushes that are different mixes of yellow and pink, no two the same, and not one has any kind of tag or marker that I've been able to find. The tea-smelling roses are off the bush that I don't think is Peace. Whatever it is, it's obviously been bred for cutting -- it grows enormously long stems, and right now the highest shoots are reaching 9 or 10 feet up. Just because of the age of the bushes and the house, I would guess they're an older variety, but beyond that, it's pure speculation.

I really need a master gardener to come tell me what the hell is in my yard. There's one tree that might be quince, and another that might be crabapple, but I'm not familiar enough with either to be sure.