Home smells like a Sutter’s Gold rose in Mom’s backyard.  Even though Mom didn’t water it;  the gold glory crimson, orange, yellow grew over eight-feet tall outside of her kitchen window, loaded with full body brilliant perfumed blossoms in Tiburon during spring and summer.

Mom said the rose thrived on neglect, but maybe it was the Miwok Native American earth where Mom’s house was built that nurtured it.  We found evidence of beads, mortars and pestles in the yard.  Our subdivision house was built post WWII, on Richardson Bay, nestled in a cove at the base of a rock sprinkled mountain with a 360-degree view of seven Bay Area counties.  People planted roses in their yards, but our Sierra Gold was perfectly number one. Continue reading “Sierra Gold Rose” »