Awhile back I promised to post some photos I had taken. A park I have regularly visited from the time I was a very little girl (a half century worth of time!) and one I continue to enjoy is the Whetstone Park of Roses. Once I lived close to it, but now must travel into Columbus. It holds a lifetime of memories for me. From when my Dad would take me to scramble around in the creek bed nearby, to high school dances that used to be held in the meeting house, to times when my children were little and we walked through the roses in bloom before I had much of a garden of my own, I have seen the garden grow and change over the years. Here are a few photos recording this summers garden…
The entryway has changed in theme over the years…this one being a mixed planting that prominently features grasses. Not so very long ago it was filled with miniature roses.
A detail of the entryway planter bed. In my earliest recollections there was a turnstile gate that controlled entry into the Rose Garden part of the park and a water fountain was here. Now it is very open and integrated with the rest of the park. Although, by situation it is somewhat set off and the serene feeling is preserved.
For many years now, an herb garden has been cultivated in one arm of the garden. As well as I can remember it was begun back in the late seventies or early eighties. It is a mature garden now, and the hollyhocks were striking. Some of the larger more sprawling herbs seem to have been replaced.
Here is one view of what the garden is famous for: rosebeds full of blooming roses. Looking from the back of the park just inside the heritage rose garden whose old roses had long passed blooming at the time I visited, focusing on the ironwork observation deck. The main portion of the roses are below the sight line beyond the line of pink blooms, as the garden slopes downward from this point. |
| From Ilona's Garden Journal |
The last picture in this series was the serendipitous good luck of seeing a beautiful rose garden wedding in progress. The weather was perfect with the spray of a fountain the only precipitation in sight.
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