CULTURE
Wild Roses in Chicago
By Kevin Johnson
A rose bush has to be pretty nervy to grow in Chicago. Especially a wild sprout.
Especially in a back yard.
Many Chicagoans grow and cultivate them just to see how hardy they really are. With large blooms of pink ladies curling between the diamond patterns of their chain link fence, these growths are a condign source of pride. Curious, considering that by their very name and nature, wild roses grow best when left alone.
A feral rose is thicker with thorns than its domesticated kin. Its prickled stalks are more robust and almost recalcitrant in their resistance to the prune. And yet many Chicago backyard owners readily accept compliments and plaudits for their efforts, as if coddling the plant with gentle pruning is what coaxed out its radiant plumage. This is wishful thinking. Wild rose bushes grow without permission. Ask anyone who’s tried to remove one. Once rooted in a yard, it will find its shoots for years to come. So much so, you can’t help wonder, in God’s great design, if the ultimate backyard gardener isn’t displeased with our attempts to domesticate them.
About a half-dozen kinds of native wild roses are common in Illinois, with a couple other species having escaped from cultivation and gone wild. But roses are so variable -- with different kinds blending into each other so gradually -- that botanists seldom agree on the number of species in North America. There is even some confusion over their scientific names. So here’s my attempt to clear things up.
“Rosa Setigera,” as it’s technically known, is the great equalizer in a garden community. It shares its bloom with expert practitioners and neophytes alike, without regard to income, education, or acreage. It sees opportunity everywhere. All that’s necessary is a willingness to allow it to live.
In our Jefferson Park neighborhood, our own Tournament of Roses Parade begins quietly in late April, but the stars of the show are the wild roses that appear during the long days of July and Midsummer. Perhaps the most beautiful of the local varieties you’re likely to see is known as the “Prairie”, or “Climbing Rose” which can be seen lifting its clustering blossoms above fence rows and thickets across the state, often to a height of eight feet or more. Its rose-pink flowers, about two and one-half inches across, gradually fade to white with age.
It’s a hearty stock and several valuable cultivated climbing roses have been developed from this wild species. Its stems are armed with stout, widely separated thorns and unlike other native roses, its leaves usually have only three leaflets. Around here you can find them most plentiful in the Palos Forest Preserves.
Two less dazzling, but the more common roses in the prairies and uplands of Illinois, are the “Pasture” (aka “Dwarf Prairie Rose”) and the “Meadow Rose”. Both are low bushy shrubs with fragrant pink flowers. Their leaves are usually divided into five or seven leaflets. These two are often confused, but the easiest way to tell the two apart is in their stalks. The stems of the Pasture Rose have sharp prickles while those of the Meadow Rose are usually smooth. You’re likely to see more of the “Pasture” variety here because during the past century, the Pasture Rose has been cultivated and is usually grown for borders and shrubbery.
A fourth and personal favorite of mine is “The Sweetbrier” or “Eglantine” Rose of ye olde song and poetry. It is a lovely little rose occasionally found near old Illinois homesteads where it survives and spreads without any special attention or care. A native of Europe, its pink flowers usually have notched heart-shaped petals. It gets its name from the sweet perfume of its leaves.
Most wild roses all have five petals with flowers and a center of many yellow stamens. While they don’t produce nectar, they do attract passing insects by their color, their perfume and an abundance of pollen for food. Their brightly colored, apple-like fruits – called "hips" -- are rich in Vitamin C and attract birds, which eat the flesh and scatter the nutlike seeds all over.
But beyond its given beauty, the wild rose in Illinois is representational. It is a reflection of the diverse demographics of this city. How many of us have come like seeds floating on the wind to take root in a Chicago neighborhood? Pittsburgh, Akron, Detroit, San Juan, Port-o-Prince. We’ve all germinated locally in bungalows, two-flats, or single- family homes with w.w. carpet, a/c, 2.5 baths and southern facing eat-in kitchens. So why is that unique? New York has Ellis Island. San Francisco has its China town. Texas has, well, the border. But consider that Chicago is much further to get to. It’s nestled in the middle of the country— And it’s cold here.
The National Garden Association breaks the country down into different climate zones. The higher numbers mean a more tropical temperature. San Diego, for instance, is a nine. Miami is a nine. High numbers have longer periods of warm and temperate weather. Chicago is a six.
A Chicago summer seems to stick around only long enough to pick up its mail. It takes a rose with a certain hardiness and panache to grow here. Same thing with people. After the stinging, lingering Chicago winter has brought all the garden green stuff low, we Chicagoans make our annual pilgrimage to Home Depot or Gethsemane for flats of annuals; but let’s face it, the annuals are doomed. Planting them is like harvesting hen’s eggs. They were never intended to have a full life. They are to be consumed by winter’s heavy appetite. But we’re comforted by the sight of tiny sprouts of green leaves on the brown, spiked and curled branches growing in the corner of the yard. The roses will be back.
The rose is said to be the world's oldest cultivated flower, dating back to ancient times in both Europe and Asia. Over the centuries, flower lovers have crossed and re-crossed the different species so often that hundreds or even thousands of different varieties are grown and it’s almost impossible to trace their ancestries. Just like us.
Many countries from where our parents emigrated have cultures, symbols, and mythology deeply connected to the rose. The rose was sacred to a number of goddesses (including Isis and Aphrodite), and is often used as a symbol of the Virgin Mary.
According to Indian mythology, one of the wives of Vishnu was found inside a rose. In the Middle East it is still believed that the first rose was created from a tear of the prophet Mohammed, and that on a certain day in the year the rose has a heart of gold.
Roses are so important that the word is universally understood to mean “pink” or “red” in a variety of languages (such as Romance languages, Greek, and Polish). Roses were used in very early times as a very potent ingredient in love philters. In Scotland, if a young girl had more than one lover, it is believed in one mythology, she should take rose leaves and write the names of her lovers upon them before casting them into the wind. The last leaf to reach the ground would bear the name of the lover whom she should marry.
A red rose is also a common symbol of social democracy;
it is probably the only one similarity agreed upon by both the British and
Irish Labour Parties. It is used as representing the French, Spanish, Portuguese,
Norwegian, Danish, Swedish, Finnish, Brazilian, Dutch and European socialist
parties.
The rose came to symbolize the Republic of Georgia's non-violent bid for freedom
during its Rose Revolution and conversely represented the red rose of Lancaster,
and the white rose of York, from the Wars of the Roses period.
The rose is the national flower of both England and the United States, and it is also the state flower of four US states—but not Illinois, although it came close.
The famous 1893 Columbian World Exposition, held in Chicago, is credited with sparking a nationwide interest in the adoption of flowers to represent a state. That year, the purple iris was one of the suggestions to represent Illinois. It was never officially adopted, because in 1907, at the suggestion of Mrs. James C. Fessler of Rochelle, who had launched the statewide campaign to adopt a state flower, the choice of a state flower and a state tree was put to a vote of Illinois schoolchildren.
State officials watched closely as over 33,500 votes were cast for three flowers: the goldenrod, the wild rose and the violet. The violet won the contest by almost 4,000 votes. The wild rose gave the violet a run for it’s money, but the goldenrod never had a chance.
So now there is a national debate about the nature of immigration: “illegal immigrants” versus “guest workers” as it’s called. Which do we allow to grow within our own backyards? Maybe Shakespeare’s was right in asking, “What’s in a name? That which we call a rose, by any other name would still smell as sweet.” Or Gertrude Stein when she wrote: "Rose is a rose is a rose is a rose.”
For me, the wild rose is representative of the Chicago city and its cultural diversity. There is a reason that it weaves into the chain links and tapestry of our neighborhoods. New York is just a giant concrete island, everything is potted, so nothing can really take root. And L.A. is far too manicured to allow the thorny bushes to grow. But here in Chicago, I would miss a community that was devoid of the tenacious beauty and charm of the wild rose.
