It’s rose season once again in San Francisco (possibly my favorite, challenged only by the arrival of dahlias later in the summer), and I am thrilled to have made it out to the Rose Garden at Golden Gate Park in time for the first wave of springtime blooms (mid-May). I’m certainly hoping the visit was merely one of many more during the blooming season this year (side note: I was so disappointed to have missed seeing the tulips in the neighboring Queen Wilhelmina Garden during their peak bloom time last month—fully due to a simple lack of planning and prioritization—that I was ever more determined to seek out this season’s roses).
In addition to indulging in the myriad sensory pleasures conjured by a rose garden in bloom, I also carried a micro-mission to learn more about roses by familiarizing myself with the name of each variety I came across. While I’ve always been happy to take a good photograph of a beautiful blossom, lately I’ve craved a deeper connection to my floral subjects, and learning their names seemed like a good place to start. After the initial bit of visual overwhelm at the garden entry had subsided, I decided to make my way through somewhat methodically, enjoying and photographing adjacent plantings in sequence (also taking note of the painted or staked variety markers) so I could more easily identify their portraits later at home.
Since I was on a solo local adventure without the constraints of a companion or out-of-town traveling itinerary, I had all the time in the world for this thoughtful process. Interestingly, though, I didn’t end up taking all the time in the world and instead let my visit naturally come to an end after covering only about half of the garden. The space isn’t particularly huge, but I certainly had had plenty to feast on. The lunchtime crowd had also begun to trickle in (people taking time in the middle of their weekday to stop and smell the roses truly warmed my heart), and I became aware that even my favorite creative act of photography can deplete me as can any other activity that requires physical and mental alertness. I do have to keep reminding myself that I’m fortunate enough to live within walking distance of this garden, so conceding the “back half” on this visit simply gives me ample motivation and a great starting point for the next one.
And now I’ll leave you with what was my own last stop of note: the Belle of the Ball, the glorious Julia Child doling out buckets of buttery blossoms in the very center of the garden. Enjoy!
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