Rose Growing – Fraser Valley Rose Farm

Category: Rose Growing

How to Prune Roses

Good advice on rose pruning should really begin with a question: why? Why should you bother cutting at all? What would happen if you didn’t prune your roses?

The shrub might get taller than you’d like. You want blooms at a height where you’ll enjoy them
Left to their own training, they may take on an unattractive or uneven shape. They can also invade the space of another plant or intrude on a pathway
Dead, damaged, diseased & crossing stems will persist on the shrub, doing no one any good
The shrub may become a bit congested with older stems, preventing proper air movement and sunlight from reaching the center of the shrub

By the way, these are the very same reasons you’d consider pruning any tree or shrub:

Size. Shape. Health. Thinning.

And when you prune for those 4 reasons, you’ll often spur on vigorous new basal growth for stronger stems and flowering.

If your rose is younger, and still needs time to establish – skip it. Likewise, if your established rose is a pleasing size/shape, and overall healthy you can get away with minimal pruning. I usually pick an older stem or two from the base for removal anyway, just to encourage fresh growth, but it’s totally optional. I want to include a video here that shows how I tackle this in real life – first with a rough cut for size and shape, then with the finer work down low on the shrub to thin and remove old and damaged stems:

I could just about end the article right here, but I won’t. There will be questions about when and how, and I don’t mind answering them in full, but I don’t want to give you the impression that it’s a complicated matter. You could pretty much tackle your rose pruning when it’s convenient for you and use a wide range of methods (including a hedge trimmer!) and so long as you’re making progress towards one or more of the above goals, it’s all good.

Irritatingly, some of the specific instructions about rose pruning you’ll have heard passed around as garden folk wisdom is fixated on what I view as irrelevant and maybe even unhelpful: the cutting angle, the position of the cut in relation to the next outward-facing bud, sealing the pruning cuts. As a side-note, this video where I made commentary on these “rules” for pruning roses more or less launched my YouTube channel:

I’ll quickly summarize and review these supposedly rose-specific rules here and also give you my assessment of whether the rule is worthwhile:

1 – Prune when the forsythia is in bloom (late winter): Somewhat agree. It’s a pretty good time to target because you’ll be able to take out any noticeable cold damage in the same step. That said, you can prune later in the season – even after flowering, and that works well too.

Forsythia in bloom, but you could also time with many other late winter blooming plants

2 – Begin with dead, diseased, damaged or crossing stems: Mostly agree. It’s one of the main pruning goals I identified at the top the article. It’s also some of the most productive pruning – you can do a lot of good without any hard decisions. Whether you tackle this before or after shaping/reducing size is your call. In my actual work flow I generally take off some of the extra height and mass first so that I can get a clear look inside the shrub for these finer cuts.

3 – Prune to an outward-facing bud: Mostly disagree. This advice goes on the mistaken assumption that your rose will only shoot from the bud just below your cut, and that choosing an outward-facing bud will promote a more open shape after pruning. In practice, your rose will likely shoot from multiple buds below the cut, and will fill in with stems and foliage wherever there’s sunlight available to fuel the growth. Choosing a bud to be outward is unnecessarily fussy in my view, and this advice just serves to confuse new rose growers.

4 – Prune low and to just a few stems: I somewhat disagree with any one-size-fits-all guidelines around number of stems and standard height after pruning. I suppose it’s meant to reassure new growers that if they follow the recommended height for a hybrid tea or floribunda, that they won’t mess it up. The pruning height and shape shown in the video (open, and down to 18 inches) is pretty typical of the advice given. It’s probably fine for a healthy, vigorous shrub rose like a Knock Out. Many of my roses would resent such a severe cut, and I know many gardeners who prefer a larger shrub in the garden.

5 – Use clean, sharp tools and disinfect between roses: Agree. This isn’t so much a rose-specific tip as just a generally good gardening technique. Cleaner cuts are less prone to die-back, and disinfected tools reduce the risk of spreading pathogens between plants.

6 – Cut on an angle and seal your cuts with glue: Mostly disagree. I couldn’t find anything before (or even since) the video to back up the notion that cutting on an angle is helpful, and what I did find in the research seems to indicate the opposite: the larger the surface area of the cut, the more it’s associated with poor outcomes.

This next bit gets me into hard feelings with some gardeners. If you think it’s worthwhile to seal your canes, I won’t stop you – and you can even skip to the next paragraph if you’re happy to keep doing so. Sealing the cut with glue (or nail polish or pruning sealer) isn’t something that’s likely to protect your roses from serious cane borer damage. The most damaging of cane borers on roses don’t enter through the cut stems, and they’re not flying around in the late winter (if that’s your timing) waiting for you to prune. Your best defense against the worst of the cane borers is careful observation during their active season (generally mid-spring to early summer) to quickly identify and remove infested stems.

Do I really mind you if cut on an angle or put nail polish on your cut stems? Of course not. You do you. My only point is that when these nitpicky practices are listed as the “right way” to prune roses, it adds complexity to an already intimidating task.

7 – Prune to a pleasing, balanced shape and a more open center. Yes. Let’s not overcomplicate the issue. A rose is just like any other shrub, and usually only needs a bit of thinning and shaping for best garden performance.

Common Questions

When I’m presenting this topic at pubic events (garden clubs, etc.) this is the point where the audience begins asking more specific questions. For convenience, I’ve answered most of these in video format at one point or another, so I’ll add those video and some commentary below.

Timing: As mentioned above, you can get away with pruning your roses over a wide stretch of the season. It does bear saying that once-blooming roses (species and some old garden roses) depend on their established stems for flowering, so an ill-timed severe pruning will result in a much less impressive display. Here’s a video (and flowchart, for those inclined) to help you work through the best time for puning:

What about climbers? You’ll improve flowering by keeping some longer stems in place and trying to train those stems horizontally. I’ve made two videos with examples, but here’s the one where I talk about it more generally:

On a similar topic, some viewers look for a little guidance for dealing with standard or tree roses. They’re top-grafted, so care should be taken to avoid damaging the graft union at the center. Here’s my video:

Finally, I hear a lot of questions about roses that have been neglected, and over the years have become overgrown. If they’re overall healthy, they can accept quite a severe pruning to bring them back down to size. I’ll include one final example video here just to embolden you to take up the loppers:

A few final thoughts:

If you’re in a temperate climate and you’ve chosen to take on your pruning at the traditional time of year, late winter, it would also be a decent time to do a bit of clean up. You could remove any persistent old leaves that haven’t dropped. You can also remove dropped leaves from the base of the plant, so that they don’t carry over the foliar disease from one season to the next. A refreshing or replacement of the mulch would be helpful in this regard too. I personally make my first application of bulk organic amendments at this time – I use alfalfa pellets a lot, but I’d be just as satisfied to apply a shovel scoop of compost or manure.

Should You Spray Your Rose Garden?

“Spray” is not a four-letter-word. It’s just a method of application, equally useful for liquid kelp extract as for certain biological controls like nematodes or beneficial bacteria – but that’s not the kind of spraying we’re really talking about here, is it? The kind of sprays that quickly divide the opinions of neighbors and gardeners are the synthetic pesticides.

As a very quick aside, it’s often said that one should avoid the topics of politics, religion and money if you want to keep conversation polite in general company. When it comes to gardeners, avoid talk of invasive species, peat moss and pesticides. And while I agree that it’s a shame we can’t have reasonable conversations on topics that could really benefit from some reason, you’ll inevitably tweak someone’s strong feelings along some pretty predictable ideological fault lines and that’s no fun.

I’m going to carry through with this topic anyway, but in order to avoid (or at least delay) any hard feelings, I’m going to approach this from a place of common ground: no one, and I mean no one, wants to climb into a spray suit on a hot day, strap on tightly-fitted respirator, and walk around the garden with a backpack sprayer filled with pesticides.

It’s unpleasant, dangerous, expensive and usually only solves a pest problem for a short period of time, while also posing risks to the non-target organisms who might actually be the “good guys” and part of the solution. I never assume that gardeners are out there spraying just for fun but rather because they feel they’re out of better options. So it only makes sense for me to focus the first part of this article on those: the better options!

Resistant Varieties

I’d love to grow the thornless and beautifully fragrant Bourbon rose Zéphirine Drouhin. I’ve tried. Three times, in fact.

Zephirine Drouhin photo by T. Kiya CC BY-SA 2.0

It’s just too susceptible to foliar disease in my climate that it proved difficult to grow well, regularly dropping most of its foliage to black spot, powder mildew or both.

Once you know the challenges of you climate (and this is something experienced rose growers in your area are not reluctant to share) it can be helpful to guide your buying choices towards roses that are best suited – or at least not poorly suited – to resist those problems. I sometimes take for granted that rose gardeners are familiar with Helpmefind, a sort of “Wikipedia” or rose varieties. If I’d been paying attention to the write-up there, I might have skipped my efforts to grow Zephirine (at least the second or third time!)

There it is on that final line, in plain black and white. They usually post a rating for at least blackspot and mildew, but also include Member Rating for overall tolerance of disease, heat, cold, rain and shade. It bears saying here that you’ll have a lot fewer problems with pests and diseases if you’re rose is well suited to your climate and its location in the garden.

The Basics of Rose Care

It seems to follow from what I just wrote above that an rose coping poorly with extreme heat & humidity or too much shade is going to be more susceptible to pest problems. This is undoubtedly true. That old expression that says “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger” is exactly the wrong approach when it comes to plant health. It should be reformulated as “What doesn’t kill you makes you weaker and more susceptible to secondary infection” – not as uplifting, I admit. In fact, the reason yellow sticky cards (for pest monitoring) are yellow is that the pests are especially attracted to the sickly yellow leaves of stressed plants.

Look after the basics: a reasonable soil with decent drainage and not too high a pH. A sunny spot – at least 6 hours for most roses, with some exceptions. Appropriate watering. A mulch to maintain consistent moisture and temperature. Fertilizer as needed – but not so much (especially nitrogen) as to spur on an excess of lush green growth, because the pests love that too!

Plant for Diversity

One reason traditional field agriculture is so reliant on spraying pesticide is because they plant in monocultures. A whole field of corn planted in close proximity can be quickly decimated when a fast-reproducing pest moves in. In mixed landscapes, there’s more balance between various predators, parasites and pests. I strongly encourage rose growers to plan and plant for diversity in the garden, which also creates a perfect excuse to source all the interesting shrubs, perennials and annuals you’ve ever fancied, even in passing.

For more on the biological approach to pest management, and some of my plant recommendations, here’s a video on the topic:

Sanitation and Pruning

One cultural control to pests, especially foliar disease like blackspot and powder mildew, is to prune out any damaged, diseased and congested stems from low down and in the centers of the shrubs. Combine this with a stripping of the lower infected foliage as warranted by the severity of the outbreak. This kind of cleanup can reduce the chances of the disease spores reinfecting your plants, and also allows for proper air circulation within the shrub.

For a quick discussion on stripping leaves, here’s another of my video topics:

The classic time for a thinning pruning is just as your roses are waking up from winter (in temperate climates anyway). However, I tend to thin a bit throughout the season as I deadhead my roses. The earlier you catch signs of foliar disease the better I’ve found, but I really do focus my efforts on the most susceptible varieties in my garden.

Tolerance

It’s a dirty trick of rose culture that tells gardeners they should be looking for perfect blooms and spotless foliage. The same way that farmers have tried to educate produce customers that a crooked carrot tastes fine compared to a straight one, rose growers should let themselves off the hook for a bit of chewing damage on their leaves. One of the cornerstone principles of modern pest management is just keen observation and setting a “tolerance” level for pests and disease. This will come with time, as you see which warning signs of pests require intervention, and which require a shrug.

Biological Controls

My favorite biological controls are the ones that come for free! Birds and beetles eat slugs. Hoverflies eat aphids. Pirate bugs do a pretty good job on thrips. Predatory mites hunt down the spider mites. There isn’t an insect pest I can think of that doesn’t have its natural predators, and also, as noted above, plants that you can put in your garden to encourage them.

However, it may happen that an outbreak of pests overwhelms your plants faster than natural predators can deal with them. This is actually almost inevitable at certain points in the year. Pests reproduce very quickly when their food is plentiful(the roses, in this case are putting on fresh growth). The predators are naturally one step behind, as they need their food source (the pests) to build up before they can start their own population boom.

It’s nice to know that one of your options is to supplement with biological controls. Ladybugs are a well-known choice, but in my conversations with professional growers I’ve heard strong recommendations for generalist beneficials too. Your eventual choice will depend on the pest you’re dealing with and what’s available from local suppliers – who are generally pretty helpful with recommendations.

I should also mention that some biological controls are offered in ready-to-use products sold at garden and hardware stores. BTk is a bacteria used to control caterpillars, and it’s cousin BTi is pretty effective against fungus gnats in propagation (the product these come in is dunks or bits for mosquito control). There’s also Milky Spore to apply to lawns with Japanese Beetle larvae. So not everything needs to come from a specialty biological control company.

Natural or Organic Pesticides

Insecticidal soap is just true liquid soap (potassium salts of fatty acids) applied as a spray. It’s a contact pesticide, meaning it has to be sprayed directly onto the pest population to be effective. It’ll wipe out aphids with no problem, but has a little trouble with spider mites and thrips because they’ll shelter in their webbing or in the folds of flowers and distorted leaves. It will also kill non-target insects if they’re hit by the spray. There’s no residual action, so once the soap dries, the plant is safe again for pests and beneficials.

Sulfur is the purified straight-up element, applied either as a finely ground powder (usually suspended in water as a spray) or vaporized in a sulfur burner. It’s pretty effective against powdery mildew and spider mites. It shouldn’t be applied within 7 days of soap or oils

Horticultural oil is a refined paraffin or vegetable oil formulated to be less damaging to plant tissues while still offering some control of insects and fungal disease. See above that it shouldn’t be applied in close timing with sulfur. Like soap, it’s a contact pesticide for insects with no residual effects. It’s the product most recommended for scale insects.

Potassium bicarbonate is sort like baking soda (and sometimes used as a substitute) – but safer to use on plants. Sprayed in a solution (3% by weight) with water it’s broadly pretty effective for prevention (but not cure) of foliar disease. It’s even more effective when combined with chitosan (0.75% by weight) as described in this video:

I think it’s important to say that these more “natural” or organic type sprays aren’t guaranteed to be without harms. I like the above options because they have a long record of relatively safe use, because they’re targeted, don’t have residual effects, and because they’re shown not to result in pesticide resistance very readily. Those aren’t things you can say for the “hard” synthetic pesticides, but you should still treat any and all of these with due care. Understand the products, the risks and all safety precautions before applying.

Dormant Spray

Maybe my favorite kind of pesticide application is in the dormant season because it combines sanitation with prevention. Pest populations (both insect and microbial) are at their lowest and most inactive during the dormant season. Somewhat stronger solutions of lime-sulfur, dormant oil or copper-based sprays can be used to great effect in reducing their overwintering populations or spores before they can reestablish in the spring. I give details and answer questions about these sprays in the following vid:

The Hard Stuff…

In the same way as I acknowledge not all “natural” pesticides are intrinsically harmless, I have to say that not all synthetic chemicals are crated equally harmful. I personally have been able to draw the line (on my farm) at solutions offered above. Mainly I’ve focused on companion planting (to attract and support beneficials) and proper plant care, pruning and sanitation. I use the bicarbonate, soap, oil or sulfur in a very targeted way as needed during the active season, and only use dormant spray on susceptible varieties (if at all).

When I worked in a commercial wholesale nursery, they whole arsenal was available to us, and some of it was pretty scary. Organophosphates like diazinon and malathion gave me real concerns from a human health point of view – I wouldn’t use them then, and if you’re considering it, I’d just advise you to really understand all the risks.

Pyrethroids are related to natural compounds found in the Robinson’s Daisy (Tanacetum coccineum) – synthesized and reformulated to make them quite an effective insecticide with a short residual – usually a couple of days. I guess you could call that “natural-ish”. I mention it here because it’s been found fairly effective against rose midge, which as a pest doesn’t give you a lot of other options. Toxic to a wide range of insects, fish, reptiles, humans (at higher exposure levels) and especially to cats.

Spinosad might even be better included in the above (natural) category, as a chemical extract of a natural compound in a particular bacteria. Some certifying agencies permit its use in organic agriculture. It’s affective against a wide range of insects and hasn’t been found to be very dangerous to mammals. I mention it here because it’s often recommended against chili thrips, which are hard to tackle otherwise.

The Difference Between Climbing and Rambling Roses

Do you want a 3m/10ft rose you can tie onto a small arbor or trellis where it will bloom in bright colors all season long? Climber.

Do you want to unleash a rose to scramble up and down the side of a barn and delight visitors with its clusters of soft-hued flowers in the late spring? Rambler.

There are other distinctions between climbers and ramblers that I’ll discuss in this article, but I begin with the thing that matters most to hobbyists: the way they’re typically used in the garden.

‘Handel’ a modern climber Photo by Ryan Somma CC BY-SA 2.0

See the climber ‘Handel’ in the above picture. It exemplifies some of the characteristics of a modern climber. They’re generally (but not always):

Repeat blooming
Come in a full range of colors, including pure red, bright orange, and vibrant blends like modern hybrid teas and floribundas
Solitary or cluster flowering
Around 3m (10ft) tall on average for a small to medium climber
Variable hardiness
Complex hybrids

Adelaide d’Orleans by Leonora (Ellie) Enking CC BY-SA 2.0

Now have a look at ‘Adélaïde d’Orléans’ as an example of a rambler, with impressive clusters of flowers in a delicate muted color. What a show! Ramblers generally are:

Once-blooming
Limited in their range of colors. More subtle tones of white, pink, yellow
Cluster flowering
Quite large. 5m (16ft) + would not be uncommon
Somewhat hardier than modern climbers on average
Closer relate to wild species roses

These generalizations are for convenience more than precision – and I fully expect that there are readers ready to volunteer exceptions on almost any one of these characteristics. What about ‘Ghislaine de Feligonde’ a repeat-blooming rambler? Or ‘Bleu Magenta’ or ‘Chevy Chase’ to challenge the matter of subtle pastel tones? Rule-breakers aren’t hard to find in these groups.

Rambler ‘Bleu Magenta’ Photo by T. Kiya CC BY-SA 2.0

Breeding

If you want to get technical, ramblers are defined by their close genetic relationship to wild roses that have that same “expansive” growth habit. The major groups of ramblers are the near-direct offspring of the four rose species listed in the picture below:

These nearly wild genes account for their predominantly once-blooming (late spring/early summer) annual flowering cycle, and also for their more natural range of colors, with individually smaller, simple blooms in clusters.

Climbers are not defined by genetics, but is rather just a description of usage or growing habit, so they tend to be far more diverse in flower form, color and overall growing habit. I made a video a while back where I looked at the lineage of roses in a “family tree” of sorts. Here’s a clipping from that video:

What you’ll find is that climbing roses are identified from every corner of this chart, and from all different classes. Hybrid tea? ‘Climbing Peace’. Floribunda? ‘Iceberg’. Miniature? ‘Warm Welcome’. Hybrid Perpetual? ‘Souvenir du Docteur Jamain’. Shrub? ‘Constance Spry’.

That makes it difficult to say anything particular about the climbers, because some are more like their Bourbon parents, and others are very much a Hybrid Musk. They tend to have repeat blooming in common between them, but even that’s not a firm rule.

Pruning and Training

Ramblers prefer a light touch when it comes to pruning. They bloom on mature stems (at least one season old) so a severe cut back will definitely impact flowering the following year. The safest time to prune them is directly after their annual flush of flowers.

Climbers, as repeat bloomers, can accept a little more assertive pruning for shape, size and rejuvenation – and most gardeners will do this structural pruning in late winter or early spring, while the framework is still laid bare to the eye. They still perform better if you leave a significant portion of their main stems in place, but targeting damaged, diseased & crossing stems is a must. Trim the laterals (the smaller flowering branches coming from the main stems) down to a node or two.

I want to share a couple of videos with you that will help to highlight some of these varieties. First my video on “The Difference Between Climbing and Rambling Roses” with some examples of notable roses from each class:

And while I’m sharing my picks of roses, here’s another video I made with picks for great garden climbers:

4 Easy Steps to Breed Your Own Rose

What does it take to be a rose hybridizer? As it turns out, mainly patience. Don’t get me wrong – I’m sure the top-tier rose breeders also bring a wealth of knowledge and a keen eye for quality to the endeavor, but the basic techniques themselves aren’t complicated to understand. Once you know the steps, it’s just a matter repeating the process until you produce the rose you always imagined (or one you never knew you wanted!), but each attempt can take years to evaluate. So yeah, patience!

You aren’t going get far into the hobby of hybridizing roses without knowing just the basics of flower anatomy. The birds and bees, so to speak – although with roses it usually has a lot more to do with bees than birds. In the above diagram, the male parts (bearing the pollen) are called the stamen, and in the center of the flower are the female part that will develop the seeds.

Your goal is to collect the pollen from one selected parent, and transfer that pollen (when ready) to the seed parent without giving the bees a chance to interfere with their own pollination efforts.

By the time your rose is at the stage you see in this picture, you’re too late! You can see the outer ring of stamens (labeled #1) and the central pistil (labeled #2) and how perilously close they are to each other. If you look really closely at the other flower, you’ll also see the yellow flecks of pollen that have dropped onto the petals. Imagine how easily a visiting insect could fertilize the flower with its own pollen! For you to avoid this risk, you’ll have to get there before the flower even opens.

Step 1: Collect the flowers of your chosen pollen parent

Timing: Morning of Day 1

Collect flowers that are nearly open. The petals will still be “closed” around the pistil and stamen, but loosely enough that you can force them open. Because you’ll be using these flowers for their pollen, you can cut them right off the plant. Trim the petals away at this point.

Trimming the petals from my pollen parent, ‘Graham Thomas’

Some people will just cut off the top “sacks” from the stamens (called anthers) at this point, but I was taught to just leave them on the flower so as to use the whole things as a “brush” when applying the pollen. The pollen may not be ready right away, but if you collect these flowers into a small container, you should begin see the release of pollen within a few hours.

Step 2: Prepare your chosen mother rose

Timing: Morning of Day 1

The flowers of the seed parent (mother) need to remain on the plant because after pollination it will take around 3 months to develop ripe seeds. Again, select flowers that are still closed, but that the petals are loose enough to work open. For this flower, remove both the petals and the stamens.

At this stage, the pistil may not be quite ready to accept pollen. That may happen as early as the same day or up to a couple of days after petal removal.

Step 3: Transfer the pollen

Timing: Afternoon of day 1, repeat for the next 2 or 3 days to be sure

This really is as simple as using the flower of the pollen parent (you collected this in step 1) to brush the pollen onto the pistil of the mother plant. I usually do my first transfer on the afternoon of the first day, and then try again a few times over the following days just in case the mother plant wasn’t ready yet. You can also brush the loose pollen on with your finger if a lot has released from the pollen sacks.

Now’s the time to label your cross. I use a plastic loop tag with the name of the pollen parent and seed parent. Yes, you can probably figure out the seed parent anyway (because the flower is still attached) but I note it down anyway because I figure I could get lazy about it at the time of seed collection.

Step 4: Collect and plant the seeds

Timing: Around 3 months later

The fruit of a rose (called a hip) will develop and ripen over the course of the season. Most varieties have hips that turn orange or red when the seed inside is ready to be harvested.

Some roses make good mothers and develop lots of seeds. Others are less prolific. Some roses are more or less compatible with each other than others at pollen or seed parents. This is my gentle way of tamping down the expectations that you’ll get a lot of viable seeds from each crossing. It could be zero, it could be just a few, and it could be upwards of 30.

Roses program their seeds to require a period of cold & moisture (called stratification) before they’ll germinate. In nature, this would be a winter after the hips have dropped and broken down in the soil. Don’t just leave the hips on the rose for the winter and then try to germinate them the next spring. Seeds in the hips are inhibited from this stratification even if they withstand a long cold winter on the shrub.

Sow them in a seedling tray with potting soil and leave them in a sheltered place outdoors over the winter. Alternately, place the seed tray (or just the seeds in a ziploc of perlite, sand or vermiculite) into the fridge for up to 3 months. You should check occasionally to make sure they haven’t started to germinate in the fridge (sometimes they do!)

Here’s a video I made about growing roses from seed:

What should you expect from the seedlings?

Okay, so the steps weren’t too complex (I hope – if they seem that way, it must be my explanation!). They do take some time, though. You may have already counted a minimum of 3 months for seed ripening, and 3 months for stratification/seed germination. What’s more, you may not see significant flowering on the new seedling in the first year of growth. It may throw a few small flowers, but they’re generally not the best examples of what the baby rose will produce when it’s mature.

Will it flower like the chosen plants? Not necessarily. This is where the complex genetics of roses comes into play. Even a self-fertilized rose can look and grow quite differently than the mother. If you imagined rearing a seedling that reproduces the perfect form of Parent A and the outstanding fragrance of Parent B, that’s a wonderful goal – but it’s likely to take more than a few tries to get close to the ideal! Some larger breeding program germinate thousands of seedlings every year in the hopes of introducing 2 or 3 roses after years of evaluation.

So expect something unexpected. I say none of this to discourage you. Far from it! Some great roses have been bred in small batches by amateur breeders. Also, it’s reassuring to know that all the biggest names in the history of rose breeding started out with a single act of cross-pollination.

If you’re looking for some guidance about which roses make good seed parents, pollen parents or what classes of roses are most compatible genetically, there’s thankfully an excellent forum of rose hybridizers to support the hobby.

Just to finish off this article, I’ll mention that I’ve put basically the same steps and information into the following video:

Showy Rose Hips

I’ve always said that roses are the hardest working shrubs in the garden. From the earliest in spring, they provide ornamental interest to the garden, plus food and habitat for insects, birds and other wildlife. In the fall and winter, they demonstrate this work ethic with their ripening fruit – the rose hip.

As I write this, it’s early October in my garden. While some of the less sensible hybrid roses are still sending up soft new shoots and flower buds, the species roses have been planning for winter all season: hardening off the wood from this year’s stems, and slowly ripening hips from the clusters of flowers they wore in May and June. If you’re not familiar with the species roses here’s the short explanation: these are the native wild roses from around the world. Unlike the hybrids often seen in gardens, they usually bloom all at once for a few weeks early in the season. Some of my favorites really put on a fall and winter show with their hips.

What’s a gardener to do with all these rose hips?

If you’re like me, I just enjoy them as seasonal decor of the garden. The birds, rabbits and other small critters will snack on them as they soften. I only do minimal pruning and tidying in the rose field in the fall – small birds take refuge in the canes and brambles in large numbers. Sometimes, we’ll have a spell of hard winter weather and the snow and ice will cover the rose hips for a beautiful display.

If you’re a little more inclined to forage for yourself, you can collect the rose hips and use them for tea, syrup, jelly or even wine. They’re sweet and fragrant, with a flavor somewhat like an apple or quince – they’re also very high in vitamin C. Herbalist recommend them for heart health and arthritis – and they’re also supposed to be good for the common cold.

In my opinion, the best hips for harvest are the big, juicy hips of Rosa rugosa:

Some of the rose hips featured in the above video are definitely not for eating. The Scots rose, Rosa spinosissima and its relatives have attractive black or purple hips, but they’re rather dry and mealy inside:

One more rose I have to add a photo of is Rosa roxburghii, the chestnut rose. It’s a very large shrub (almost a tree), with finely divided leaves, and these large spiny hips that distinguish it from all other roses:

Grow Roses From Cuttings

Many garden-worthy varieties of roses are in danger of disappearing. I could give a long rant about the reasons why – but it really is as simple as this: for various reasons, even wonderful roses can fall out of fashion. Sales fall below a certain level and the big nurseries can’t make money propagating them in large numbers, so they fall “out of the trade”.

Here’s where the little guys like you and me come in, and here’s what I want you to do:

Collect out-of-patent and garden-worthy roses before they disappear from the nurseries
Take cuttings
Once rooted, sell them or give them away
Accept my thanks for keeping old & uncommon roses alive and for sharing the hobby!

Of the actions listed above, numbers 1 and 4 are pretty easy… I suspect if you have any questions, it’ll be about the “taking cuttings” and the “rooting” part. Happily, there’s plenty of information out there about how to take semi-hardwood cuttings of roses (my preferred method). My part is to encourage you to get some experience doing it, and to answer any questions you may have.

Here’s an introductory video I made on the topic:

Some people learn from watching, but I really need to emphasize that the best way to learn propagation is by throwing caution to the wind and just doing it. Get those clippers into your hands and get snipping – even if you’re not sure you’re doing it right. You’ll get a feel for it as you get experience handling the roses and cuttings.

To recap and detail the points on the video:

Start with clean, sharp clippers. I use a Felco, but any decent quality blades will do as long as you keep them sharp and clean.
Select a section of the rose’s stem – a good section has at least 3 or 4 nodes and is somewhere around 4 to 6 inches in length, the thickness of a pencil or slightly thinner. What’s a node? It’s a place where a leaf emerges from the stem. If the section doesn’t have leaves at every node, you can recognize the node by the bud – see this picture as an example:
It may take some practice to choose the right “firmness” or ripeness of the wood. See in the video for the way I try to bend the stem – if it bends very easily, it’s too soft. If it wont bend without feeling like it will snap, it’s too hard. If you’re not sure, just take and stick the cutting anyhow. Your success rate will tell you if you got it right.
Cut just below the bottom node, and just above the top node. Strip off most of the leaves. In my cuttings, I leave two leaflets on the top node and that’s all.
To help with your success, you can dip in a rooting hormone.
Stick the cutting in a sterile, well-drained potting mix. No fertilizer please. You only have to push it in by an inch or two – just enough to keep it stable and upright under the mist.
Yes, there are alternatives to mist. I’ve had decent success with a humidity dome or tent in the past. It depends on how many you’re doing. Let me know if you need any tips! It’s important not to keep the cuttings water-logged while they’re trying to root.
You’ll know your cutting is beginning to “take” if it’s forming white callus along the base of the cutting. Here’s an example:
Reduce the mist / humidity when the cutting “pulls back” when you gently tug upward on it. At this point, the early callus tissue have begun to form roots, as pictured here:
If you grow in the 9cm size pots I use, you can leave the cuttings to fully root and grow for 6 months, a year, or more before you have to do anything with it. Here’s an example of one I overwintered from last year:
And that’s it… you have a well-established rose, ready to go into a larger pot or to be sold, traded or given away.

In the time since I first wrote this article, I’ve made several other videos on plant propagation. Maybe the most common viewer request was to show a version with humidity domes rather than timed mist. The cutting technique remains unchanged, but to see an example of the success of humidity trays, have a look at this video where I propagate lavender from semi-hardwood cuttings as well:

The Scots Rose

The earliest group of roses to bloom in my landscape are the Scots roses and their close relatives. For those who are not familiar with this group of roses, they deserve a formal introduction – but maybe skip the handshake on account of the thorniness.

The species rose that they are all related to is Rosa spinosissima. Native to the British isles, northern and western Europe, and western Asia, it’s picked up a few other names from the people who live around it. I know it as the Scots rose, Burnet rose, or the Scotch Briar rose. It’s noted for growing in sandy or rocky places, usually near water. It is very tolerant of drought, shade and cold winters – making it quite a useful rose in the landscape. The Scots rose flowers in white, with prominent yellow stamens for a period of around 3 weeks starting in May (here… maybe earlier in warmer climates).

The ornamental features of this rose doesn’t end with the flowers – that would be quite a let-down, given how early in the season it finishes blooming. The Scots rose also has finely divided leaves (up to 11 small leaflets on a leaf), which are also a deep green color and have toothed edges. The foliage makes for quite a fine textured shrub compared to most modern hybrid roses. The other really cool ornamental feature is the fruit, or hips. The fruit swells and ripens through green, red, brown, and finally to a striking black. The cut branches with black hips make for interesting winter decor.

As much as I appreciate the species roses itself, what I really find exciting is that breeders have been able to use the genetics of the Scots rose to hybridize these excellent landscape characteristics into shrubs with diverse flower forms. Here are some examples:

Above: ‘Suzanne’. Soft pink. I think in the video I called it an Erskine rose, but it’s actually Skinner.

Below: Austrian Copper – not a Scots rose, but a genetic relative with some similar characteristics.

Above: ‘Betty Will’

Below: ‘Prairie Peace’ I can’t stop taking pictures of this rose when it looks like this!

What’s in a (Rose) Name?

Imagine I’m hosting a quiz show. I have a panel of noted rosarians ready to buzz in. I unveil cuttings from a rose variety for their inspection and challenge them to “Name that rose…”

After clicking furiously at his buzzer, contestant #1 pulls at his facial hair, shifts his baseball cap, and answers with a question: “Well which name do you want?”

And for most varieties, he’s absolutely right to ask.

For those of you who aren’t interested in my rant on the way roses are named, off you go! Read no further. I’ll leave you with a picture of a rose with a very straightforward name: ‘Just Joey’. Life is easy and uncomplicated. Have a nice day!

Now for those who choose to read on, I’ll level with you now. It’s a bit of a mess.

The problem is long-standing one, and old garden roses are not innocent in this. ‘Chapeau de Napoleon’ is also ‘Crested Moss’ and ‘Centifolia Cristata’ and several other variations including the words “moss”, “crested”, “Provence” in varying orders and languages. ‘Rosa Mundi’ and ‘The White Rose of York’ are famously named roses, but those aren’t their only names. By virtue of having been around for a long time and being grown in many gardens, these centuries-old roses tend to acquire a number of names to travel with.

So you’d think, based on that, that modern roses would be an easier issue. Not so much.

You knew ‘Peace’ would get in here somewhere. It was very successfully marketed and is well known in North America under the name ‘Peace’, but it was sold elsewhere under the names ‘Mme. A. Meilland’, ‘Gloria Dei’ and ‘Gioia’. The extra names in this case are marketing names, customized to the languages and preferences of the countries the rose will be sold in.

So you’ll never guess the solution that the breeders came up with: they added another name! And here’s the kicker. The “true” registered name of many (but not all) new roses is a nonsensical denomination with a three (capital) letter prefix followed by a some letters that may or may not have any descriptive value.

How about an example?

‘Hot Cocoa’ is a beautiful floribunda rose with a distinctively rich red-brown color, so the common name is nicely descriptive. The rose has the “real” registered name of ‘WEKpaltlez’. Much better. I’m glad the breeders took the initiative to clean this thing up!

Seriously. How would you pronounce that?

Wek – palt – lez. Or Week – pal – tleez. Take your choice. Either way, it appears to be purposely nonsensical.

I don’t argue with the purpose of having a single official registered name. It makes sense. And it would make even more sense if breeders and marketers acted with goodwill and wisdom when they chose the name. How about this? Take a good descriptive name that you really like, in whatever language you first introduce the rose, and keep that as the registered name. Any names acquired by introduction elsewhere would be footnotes, but the real name could move proudly on with the rose for as long as it’s cultivated.

This, by the way, is what International Code of Nomenclature for Cultivated Plants was meant to do: create a single name made up of “a word or words in a modern language other than Latin” in order to avoid the “the use of names that may cause error or ambiguity or throw the above disciplines into confusion”.

So why, then, did many plant breeders and marketers decide instead to resort to nonsensical names that are so atrocious that they are useless for the purposes of exhibition, garden identification, and publication? They confuse rather than enlighten. They are a burden rather than a help.

Greed. Or so goes the theory. If you have a few minutes, go on and read a more detailed article at this website. The author of the article, Tony Avent, gives way more insight into how this weirdness happened.

The short version is that some plant breeders give the nonsensical coded name to roses so that they can continue to collect royalties even after their plant patent expires (or without applying for a patent at all). Most countries will allow a breeder to patent their new introduction for somewhere in the range of 20 years as compensation for their work. After that, growers can propagate the plant without paying royalties.

The idea behind the nonsensical coded name is that rose buyers, authors, exhibitors and nurseries will use the “trade name” (like ‘Pope John Paul II’) because it’s, well, let’s face it… a lot easier, more attractive and more descriptive than the coded name (in the case of ‘Pope John Paul II’ it’s ‘JACsegra’). Then, if the rose continues to be popular past the patent period, the grower/marketer goes thermonuclear, and begins threatening everyone to pay royalties if they want to use the trademarked name.

You see, ‘Graham Thomas’ was never the name of that rose, goes the breeder’s logic. It was always ‘AUSmas’. This whole time, we were graciously allowing everyone to publish and exhibit and discuss the rose under the trade name, but that was always just a “brand” of the ‘AUSmas’ rose. Rose buyers value the brand, goes the logic, because they know that the ‘Graham Thomas’ brand of ‘AUSmas’ is grown better than all of those generic ‘AUSmas’es on the market. It has value because it distinguishes a high quality ‘AUSmas’ from a lesser quality ‘AUSmas’. Now, you could go ahead and grow and sell your ‘AUSmas’ as a generic, but if you want to use our brand name, you’d better pay up.

Now I’m not going to go on and say that this is underhanded. Heck, the pharmaceutical companies do this kind of thing all the time, and if you can’t trust big pharma to set the standard for moral behavior then…

But it doesn’t seem to me to ring true. And I say this as a nurseryman who works for a company that uses trademarks extensively, and properly I might add. Here’s how the wholesale nursery I work for uses trademarks:

My employer sells many varieties of perennials (mainly). Much of our business is in three trademarked brands. There’s a main brand of perennials, a brand of groundcovers, and a brand of alpine plants. They are sold in distinctively colored pots with large branded picture labels, and are often displayed in the garden centers with supporting marketing materials. My employer also adds value to these brands by maintaining a website on perennials, which provides information on the specific plants, as well as articles and videos and all sorts of other information for the gardener.

The idea, I think, is to add value with the brand. Long before I took the job, I looked for those distinctive pots in the garden center as an indication that I would find a large plant, a quality plant, an interesting variety, and an informative label. I’m not trying to make a commercial here. I’m just saying that the trademark did its job in this case… the job of distinguishing the plants grown by one producer from the plants grown at another, even when the individual varieties of plants may overlap.

To use a trade name as the name of a specific plant in publication, exhibition and gardens, so that in everyday usage it becomes the common name of the variety, and then to claim that it was never a common name… well, it doesn’t seem to meet the test. I don’t think, at that point, the end customer is looking for a rose marketed by a specific company when they say ‘Bonica’. I think they’re just using the common name to ask for a rose they’ve seen and enjoyed, regardless of the producer. The trademark adds no value and distinguishes nothing.

And while I’m belaboring the point, consider this comparison to literary works. It’s not a perfect comparison, but I think it’ll make my point. Authors have a right to profit from their work. So do plant breeders. Authors use their creative talents to create something new, say a novel or short story. So do breeders… in this example, a unique new rose. The law provides an author protection (copyright) so that they may profit from their work for a reasonable time frame. The law does the same (with plant patents) for breeders of plants. If a book continues to interest readers after this copyright period, it stays in the public domain, free of copyright. Same with plants. After the patent period is over, a rose may be freely propagated.

So the ploy of claiming a rose’s trade name is not it’s real name would be, in this example, like claiming that a book’s published title isn’t it’s real title. Imagine that authors and publishers caught onto this trick long ago, and Herman Melville were able to register “Moby Dick” as “MELwhldck” on some official book registry. Now, his publisher allows reviewers and schools and libraries to use the trade name “Moby Dick” so long as they add the coded “MELwhldck” in brackets somewhere in the reference. At some point, years after Mr. Melville has passed away, the copyright on “Moby Dick” comes to expire. A wonderful novel passes into the public domain, now free to be published by anyone into the future… its classic status assuring that it will nearly always be in print.

Not so fast… the publisher was still making a modest profit on printing “Moby Dick”, and now they decide to drop the bombshell. The book was never titled “Moby Dick”. That was just a trade name for a particular publisher’s whale novel, properly titled “MELwhldck”. Now everyone has to pay royalties ongoing, and that silly coded name becomes the real title of a literary classic for all time. Would this muddy the waters? Would this cause confusion? Would this cheapen literature? Would this seem dishonest? You know my opinion.

That’s my view, and it doesn’t much matter if it matches legal reality or not. My argument is not a legal one. It’s a moral and a practical one. We shouldn’t burden ourselves and future rosarians by littering these garbage names into the descriptions of entire generations of roses. Breeders, I submit to you that it would be simple decency and goodwill to give your roses a real name for general use and posterity. I know some lawyer might tell you differently, but I’m the guy on your other shoulder.

My rant is over. Just to be fair, I don’t think that every breeder is using the coded name system in order to extend patent protection. Some are simply using it because that’s “the way it’s done.” The way I read the registration instructions there’s no requirement to use the wacky coded denomination system.

Own Root or Grafted Roses

It’s mad science, I tell ya… take the head of a cat, and put it on a greyhound. Good running companion, and already litter-trained! It sounds outrageous with animals, but it’s standard practice for most roses. Some species roses (Rosa multiflora and Rosa fortuniana) and some hybrids (‘Dr. Huey’) are notably vigorous, adaptable, winter hardy, or disease resistant. Grafting is usually done when rose growers want those qualities bestowed upon a slower or weaker or less hardy variety. This is accomplished by taking a bud from the scion (the rose you want to grow above ground) and implanting it under the bark of the rootstock variety. When it sprouts, we chop off the head of the rootstock, and presto: two plants conjoined, one growing above the belt and one below.

For just a bit of background on the rootstocks themselves and their advantages, here’s a video on the topic:

Last year my employer began selling tomatoes produced almost this same way, but there are no buds involved. It’s a fun process. Two tomato seedlings are grown to about the same size – small, under 3 inches tall at the time. Snip, snip. Throw away the roots you don’t want and the ‘head’ you don’t want. Hold the stem of the rootstock to the ‘head’ of the scion with a little rubbery clip, and within days the graftling heals up the graft union, and continues (very) vigorous growth.

I was surprised by the variety of reactions from customers to the tomatoes. Most thought it was pretty cool. Some were even aware that most greenhouse vegetables in BC are already grown on grafted plants. But a small minority reacted in horror. A comparison to Frankenstein’s monster even came up in one of those conversations. And if you were going to choose a famous literary monster to sum up the situation, Dr. Frankenstein’s creation is probably the most apt analogy. But get a grip!

This isn’t like the genetically modified organisms (GMO) debate, which is the other topic which often provokes the Frankenstein comparison, and which, I think, is a much more legitimate cause for concern. In grafting, we’re dealing with genetically unmodified plants, and the practice is so ancient and commonplace that any health or environmental concerns can be effectively ruled out. Try this: find a commercial apple grower who uses ungrafted trees!

(On an aside, although GMOs in agriculture are commonly dubbed “Frankenfoods”, I think Dr. F’s monster better fits the comparison to grafting. The movie monster that best fits the whole GMO thing might be “The Fly”. Just sayin’…)

Back to roses though, there’s been a bit of an upswing in recent years of “own root” roses, and they are mostly what I sell. If you search up “own root roses” on the internet, you’ll get a lot of opinions, some of which are very negative about grafting.

Here’s an earlier video where I put together an more complete comparison of why you might choose own-root vs. grafted roses (or vice versa):

What you see in this picture is a relatively young (say 4 year old) grafted rose. The variety is ‘Falstaff’. The shoot that I circled in red is a sucker. It comes from the rootstock variety. If you’re not paying attention, and especially if the sucker arises closer to the base of the plant, the sucker may get pretty large before you figure out something’s wrong. It’s annoying, and I got stung by it one time early on into growing roses. I’d mulched the bases of my plants, and didn’t notice that a couple of suckers had emerged at the base of ‘Complicata’. By the time I figured it, the more vigorous rootstock shoots had dominated the growth of the shrub. Cutting them back down left me with a sad little plant. Oh well. Lesson learned.

So, getting past the annoyance of suckers, I’d like you to notice one other thing about the above photo. The big knobby growth at the base of ‘Falstaff’ is a the graft union. This is a young plant. When you see the graft union on an older rose, it’s usually much larger. The “scar tissue” around this graft union bulges and cracks, providing a good place for the plant to break or become diseased. Ultimately, it limits the useful lifespan of the rose.

Here’s an ungrafted rose stem:

New basal growth can emerge near or below the soil line to renew the shrub, and there’s no pesky rootstock variety to take over. There’s also no graft union to weaken the plant over time. This variety is ‘Altissimo’, and I’ve never had any problems with vigor on its own roots.

One more picture:

What you see here is a rooted cutting of ‘Sally Holmes’. Since I’m not doing much grafting, I thought you might like to see what I’m doing instead. When you come to think of it, though, rooting from cuttings is a bit of mad science too! Cut off a section of stem, stick it in the right conditions, and it grows new roots and shoots. In the background you can see some other cuttings getting started more or less the same way, except that they’re more or less dormant now (hardwood cuttings). The one that’s rooted already was taken earlier in the season as a semi-ripe cutting.

You might take it from what I’ve written that I have a preference for own-root roses. Not so. I simply have more practice producing roses this way, and the results for many roses are quite good. There are the advantages I’ve noted above, but the disadvantage is this: for some roses, you will probably never be happy with what you get on its own roots. My example is ‘Anisley Dickson’. Maybe someone has had success growing this one on its own roots, but for me, the rooted cuttings began sulking and they’re still doing so. Meantime, I tried grafting earlier this year, and have a massive new shoot of ‘Anisley Dickson’ emerging from the roots of Rosa mulitflora.

This jives with the experience of some of the more experienced rosarians I’ve quizzed on the matter. Some roses will perform fine on the vigor of their own roots right away, and some will take a little time, but some will never grow as nicely as you want on their own weakling roots. So for those, I’ll be experimenting with grafting.