This bush is growing near a big, noisy crossroad surrounded by ugly buildings. I walk along that street often and the roses in bloom make me smile every time. I cannot imagine how the bush got there in the first place. I'm pretty certain no one planted it. Now whoever mows the grass from time to time leaves it alone. It doesn't get trimmed or watered, yet it thrives.
(The odd wooden boxes are storage for grit that's scattered over ice and snow to keep the path safe in winter.)