The Black Pig

Odd name for a pink rose?

My father had a favourite pub at the bottom of his road, called the Black Swan.
He called it the Black Pig. Of course. It had a fine rose bush outside the door.

He brought me these rose cuttings when we moved to our present house, more than 20 years ago, and they took and flourished and here they still are. They have a lovely true rose scent, and I love the way the blooms fade from deep pink to pale.

They are a constant reminder of my father, and every year I think I must take some more cuttings just in case anything should happen to them.

Sadly, when we visited Trowbridge, his home town, some years ago, the Black Pig and it's roses were no longer there.