A rose by any other name...

This is not the most successful rose I have in the garden. It has had some sort of systemic disease since I first got it, that causes the buds to turn brown and wither before they have opened. However, this bloom being one of the first, managed to come to term. It's a 'quatre saisons' and I got it for its ability to flower over a length of time and its wonderful smell.
Devastatingly, at the beginning of covid  my sense of smell was so impaired that for months phantom stenches were all I could experience. Then as these faded I was left with  nothing - (except for basil) and roses that smelled of stale pepper. So, I got out of the way of sniffing flowers at all, until a week ago when I buried my nose in this one's heart, as much for the feel of petal pinkness as anything
I felt quite faint with shock because it actually smelt as I remembered! Sweet and scented  of summer! The sprays of creamy 'rambling rector' also packed a pungent punch. Like a starved rabbit I hopped between the borders sniffing everything from the salvia to the pansies, the buttercups to the blackcurrant leaves. And a lot had at least a whiff of their true spirits.  
Scent receptors must be regenerating and the olfactory nerves twitching and out of gratitude, quatre saisons is reprieved from being grubbed up for another year