“Early settlers loved the precious cuttings that they nurtured on long voyages. Able to carry only a few belongings in their boats and wagons, thousands of families packed a living reminder of loveliness alongside the bare necessities. One finds such roses still blooming beside wayside taverns where they stopped. They color long-abandoned wells and broken wagon wheels in pink and white. They flower like yellow sunrise around the doorways of the frontier homes those families built. And along old cart tracks through the woods, they still offer comfort to those who didn't make it. A titled tiny gravestone -- Abigail, aged 2 years, 4 months, 1 day -- and beside it the red rose of never-ending love that blooms again each June.” LoveLossRoseDevotionRosesSeedSeedling Book:Otherwise Normal People: Inside the Thorny World of Competitive Rose Gardening Source: Otherwise Normal People: Inside the Thorny World of Competitive Rose Gardening