By Alice Flores  [Reprinted from The Rose Petal of the Mid-Hudson Rose Society, Dec. 1998]

The longer I grow roses, the more I come to enjoy winter when I can observe the roses without their concealing foliage.  This is when the rose reveals its true nature and often its genealogy.  The bare stems of a dormant rose fascinate me more, in fact, than the leafy shrub.  At this time of year the thorns, the color of the bark, the arrangement of the canes and laterals, all combine to identify the rose every bit as much as (and sometimes more than) the flowers.

Although I love working in my nursery in the spring, floating on a cloud of fragrance, I am even more excited when I realize that I can name a rose by glancing at the naked plant, not even reading the tag.  This is the time of year when it is easy to sort out varieties that my unobservant helpers have inadvertently mixed together.  Mme. Gregoire Staechelin and Cl. Souvenir de la Malmaison practically separate themselves when they are devoid of leaves.  No way could you mix them up.  I’ve found that even varieties within a single class (such as R. Wichuraiana ramblers) look different in the winter.  One variety will be a bit more red, another a bit more green; or the canes will be consistently smoother, or thornier, or angled in a peculiar way.

I can appreciate the stark beauty of the winter aspect of the plants—R. Rubrifolia with its rich color, R. Cinnamomea—so spiny and delicate, Chloris with its smooth, maroon stems, the upright thorny splendor of Maiden’s Blush, the graceful drooping structure or the big Damasks, or the busy little colonies of the bristly Gallicas.

Is there anyone else out there who gets off on these naked roses?

[Alice Flores, a Mendocino-based rosarian and nurserywoman, is an active member of the Heritage Roses Group  and on the OGR Committee for Modern Roses XI.]