Roses
Roses are an enjoyable part of our life. My wife, Regina, is a passionate Rosarian who cultivates an extraordinary garden at our home in San Diego, California. Each spring, we eagerly anticipate the arrival of her roses—bursts of color and fragrance that transform our backyard into a living gallery.
Her roses aren’t just beautiful—they’re award-winning. Regina’s blooms have earned prizes at the Del Mar Fair and have been featured in rose shows for their elegance, health, and exquisite form. She knows each plant intimately, speaking the language of roses with practiced ease. From selecting varieties to pruning and feeding, she tends to them with both science and soul.
For me, the garden is a place of peace and quiet joy. I love spending time there, watching the light as it filters through the petals, seeing if it catches just right in a bloom. It’s a wonderful way to relax, to slow down, and to appreciate the color, texture, and shape of these remarkable flowers. Each rose is like a small miracle—ephemeral, perfect, and worthy of attention.
Together, we find meaning in this shared space—where beauty returns with each season, and time is measured not in hours, but in blossoms.
