Last year, these climbing roses got sick. My friend and I thought for a long time, then we took the pruners and trimmed them quite radically. There is simply no other way out - it would not get worse.
Then came the winter. Strict, as we say, not childish. At first I was nervous about how my plants would survive all this, then I just resigned myself.
I honestly didn't know what to expect in the spring.
And they bloomed. Abundant, as if nothing had happened. No diseases, no harsh winter, no radical cuts.
The only problem is that I can't get to them yet. Between me and the roses are weeds. I am already waging an active war with them in other parts of the garden, soon it will be the turn of this site. But for now, I admire from afar 馃槃
And that's a strange thing. Sometimes the more you worry about the plant - water, feed, process - the worse it is. And sometimes you leave it to your own devices, winter does its own thing, you do your own thing - and you get this result.
According to this logic, I probably did everything so wrong that the roses simply survived not thanks to my efforts, but despite馃槀
