I was chatting with one our residents at the Old Folks Home, discussing roses. I offered to bring in one of the blossoms from our "twig" so he could see and smell it, and maybe identify the variety of rose it is.
I scooted out to Twiggy, scissors in hand, and Whoops, My Dears, Twiggy was bare.
Rose petals covered the ground, Twiggy having shed them all since last I checked. Rose season is over. It started with a twig in February, sprouted, and then bloomed gloriously in May and June. It had a severe pruning in July and has a final last gasp in August with four blossoms.
Or, mixing metaphors, the fat lady has sung, so wait 'til next year.