Pruning
February is a tough month for folks who live in Seattle. I’m sure it’s worse for people who live in far colder and far darker places such as Anchorage or Minneapolis or Bangor. But, for Seattleites, it’s been gray and wet for months on end and blue sky that contrasts the stunning Cascade and Olympic Mountain ranges anchored by Mount Rainier and Mount Baker is a distant memory. But what really makes it tough is that we know it is likely to be the end of May before we get a reprieve from the rain and spring really arrives, or in a bad year, maybe even deep into June. For me, however, there is a bright spot when February rolls around. It’s time to bundle up and get outside to start cleaning up the last of the leaves from fall and prune my roses and trees. I have always loved getting my hands in the dirt, mostly because through his creation is the clearest way I understand God. All throughout the spring, summer, and fall, I am constantly outside on my knees, hands in the dirt, regularly thinking about some aspect of God’s character, ways, love, or truths. Winter makes this hard and so when pruning in February comes around, it’s oxygen after holding my breath underwater for too long.
Never do I prune my roses, in February and all throughout the growing season, that I don’t remind myself of John 15 and think of all the ways it seems like pruning the rose bush is harsh and brutal but when done right, promotes health and growth and the opportunity for beauty and continual new blossoms, not just the first buds on last year’s tired branches and that’s it for the season. “I am the true vine, and my Father is the gardener. He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit he prunes so that it will be even more fruitful.”
For as much as I’ve tried to learn about roses: classes I’ve taken, articles I’ve read, YouTube videos I’ve watched (every season before I start), people I ask, I still feel a little bit terrified inside when I cut so much off. So many beautiful buds. With very sharp clippers.
While I love my roses and think I have a good bunch of bushes in my yard with my 11, it seems every time I bring it up, the person to whom I’m talking has 30 or 40 bushes and knows far more than I. So, I’ve learned to ask questions. Pruning for the season’s bloom starts at the end of the last season. Just as fall makes up its mind to get serious and start frosting the grass white and the leaves deepen red and amber, it’s time to strip the branches. Take off all the leaves so the wind has less to catch throughout the winter and snow has less to build up on and weigh down and damage the plant. Then, it’s good to prune in February, just as they’re starting to bud for the new season. This will allow you to see where the plant is sending shoots in crazy directions and set it on a healthy path. Cut all the shoots crossing into the middle of the tree or rose bush so they are growing in the direction of the bud.
You want to make sure you have sharp clippers to make a clean cut. First, remove all blooms and leaves from last season that may still remain or that managed to bloom after the fall trimming to prevent disease. Next, cut off all the dead woody branches left from last year. This will allow for new growth. What supported big, beautiful blooms last year will hold the plant back from the same this year.
And, then I fertilize them. Around the base I sprinkle the nutrients they need to grow strong robust blossoms and develop the defenses they need to fend off aphids, and mildew and black spot that threaten their vitality and beauty. This is a constant vigilance I maintain. At least once a week, I am watching, trimming, checking – to make sure the faded and the dead blooms are removed to make way for the new and the whole plant is fed and protected. From February all the way through to the last days of fall. And I’m just an amateur gardener. Imagine the care the master takes.
