There was a party on the Westside. In the alley, I spied a gentleman pruning some overgrown ivy on a fence. Against this fence, I also spied a lovely planting of iceburg roses with nopales. Here's an interesting thing about Los Angeles-- you can find the traditional north meets south plantings buttressed up against one another, maintaining a peaceful coexistence.
This gentleman, Juan, mentioned that he'd rather have planted yellow roses but couldn't find them when the iceburgs went in the ground. His face took on another life as he described the smell of yellow roses, a humming pollination aroma from his childhood on a Guadalajara ranch.