There’s a little hidden gem near where I live, a place called Hoppy’s Landing. It’s quiet, tucked away on the water, and it’s where I often walk my dog.
The salt air is always crisp, the gulls call overhead, and the sea breeze carries the scent of something wild and wonderful—the Rugosa rose.
Right now, the Rosa rugosa bushes are in full bloom. They grow in thickets along the edge of the shore, right where the sand and salt meet the soil. These roses are not delicate hothouse flowers. They thrive in harsh coastal conditions—wind, salt spray, rocky soil—and yet they bloom with abandon, bright pink petals glowing against the grey-blue of the sea.
Their strength is beautiful to me. Resilient. Uncomplicated. Honest. I think about these flowers a lot when I’m designing. Like many of us, they flourish not in spite of challenge, but because of it. I find so much metaphor in that.
These wild roses are also where rose hips come from—the bright red fruit that appears after the flowers fall away. Locals here make jelly from them, rich in vitamin C and deeply fragrant. It's a coastal tradition rooted in resourcefulness and beauty—making something sweet from something wild and tough.
There’s inspiration everywhere in the natural world, but the Rosa rugosa reminds me that beauty doesn’t have to be fragile, and design doesn’t have to be perfect to be powerful.
More from the seaside soon,
