🌹Everything’s Coming Up Roses — Part I

The ephemeral Rose belongs to no single culture, no one place on Earth, and certainly not to one day. She existed long before modern calendars, commercialization, materialism, and greeting-card aisles claimed her.

She existed long before we tried to package love into a gift-giving holiday, measure it, or sell it back to ourselves. She is beyond such shallow gestures and instead asks us to delve into the heart center — the heart of the matter — and to honor her remarkable lineage.

Somewhere beneath the modern bouquet — wrapped in plastic and expectations — there is a sacred Rose who remembers her unhurried unfolding. In all her vast and colorful glory, she stands as living evidence that good things arrive with divine timing, lovingly tended with patience.

Botanists estimate there are around 150 wild rose species, and up to 250 species when cross-bred and hybridized varietals are included. Long before we began shaping roses to our liking, their thorned ancestors were already weaving an ever-living, five-petaled spell across ancient times and cultures — so ancient that Rosa genus fossils date back 35–40 million years. Holy Rose. If only you could whisper your sumptuous stories and enchant us with tales of all the human characters you have observed across your march through time immemorial.

And my goddess — you have captured humankind so completely that you have become a timeless symbol of love, healing, ritual, devotion, reverence, grief, and celebration — sometimes all at once. Truly impressive.

Imbolc: Spring’s Stirring Whispers & a Rose Ritual

As February peeks around the corner, we cross a quiet but potent threshold: Imbolc, traditionally observed between February 1st & 2nd.

Imbolc marks the moment when Winter’s darkness begins to loosen its grip — the halfway point between Winter Solstice and Spring Equinox. It tiptoes in quietly, leaving subtle clues that we are standing at a turning point. The days are still cold. The trees are still bare. And yet, the light is growing. Days linger a little longer upon our upturned faces. We can feel the promise of Spring just beneath the surface.

This is a moment of hope, illumination, renewal, and tending both our inner soul flame and the heartbeat of our home.

Long before Valentine’s Day filled February with obligatory acts of love, boxed chocolates, scentless commercial roses, and the pressure to buy affection, this time of year was honored as a sacred pause. Imbolc is not a celebration of grand gestures; it is a quiet, devotional, heartfelt noticing — a reverent honoring of the liminal space between Solstice and Equinox.

An invitation, dear reader:
On February 1st or 2nd — or any evening in February — allow yourself a sacred pause and take a moment to bless your inner knowing. Tend the hearth you lovingly keep. Light your candles. Speak your gratitudes. Cast the blessings you so desire into spells that gently answer the question:

What am I ready to tend as the light returns?

If you can name it, you can reframe it.

For example, Aurelius and I are ready to meet the piece of land that will become our next home. We have been dreaming it into existence for three and a half years, tuning into both where and how. So we’ve named it:

We deeply desire to purchase our first property with beautiful acreage, abundant with fruit trees, nut trees, herbs, flowers, and vegetable gardens — the sacred foundation for a much larger dream.

And the reframe, which is stated from a place that feels into the emotions, you will feel as though the experience has already arrived:

I am so grateful for the perfect land, home, and property that will become the sacred foundation for all we are calling in through our visionary imaginings — for ourselves, our children, and our grandbaby; in service of fostering creativity, beauty, and inspiration in all who encounter our magic and feel held, seen, and touched by it. All of this, held in deep reverence, respect, and loving stewardship of Mother Gaia — her abundant beauty, seasonal magic, and generous gifts — and in gratitude for all who share their creativity, heart, and inspiration with us. May it be so.

Sit quietly and reflect, listen for what you will name and reframe:

What am I ready to tend as the light returns?

Speak it aloud.
Sing it.
Dance it.
Draw it.
Write it.
Embody it fully — until you can feel the seeding, tending, receiving, and blessing of it all.

If you wish, anoint your hands or heart with rosewater or rose oil — as remembrance of your journey thus far and the ancestors who walked before you. Light a red and a white candle, perhaps scented with Rose and Gardenia.

Red symbolizes unconditional love, the Rose, and the heart.
White represents innocence, imagination, and inner light.

Place a dried rose on your altar if you have one, or something meaningful that symbolizes the Rose for you — a drawing, a painting, or items that represent what you are calling in.

Let the candles burn as steadily as hope.

This is the space where the Rose belongs.

Though she does not yet bloom in the garden, the Rose is present in spirit at Imbolc — teaching patience, devotion, and the art of cultivating what our hearts desire from a place of creativity while staying grounded in service to the great mystery. She asks us to honor the current season of our lives with presence, care, and dedication to our own unfolding.

The Moss Rose: Victorian Witchcraft in a Bud

One of my favorite rose peculiarities is the moss rose — the rose, not the succulent often given the same name.

A moss rose is essentially an old garden rose (often linked to Rosa Centifolia) that developed a curious mutation: the buds and calyx grow moss-like, glandular, sticky, and fragrant, as if the Rose decided to don a forest cloak.

Victorians adored them — because of course they did. The era was steeped in botanical symbolism, secret meanings, and romantic excess. Moss roses were curiosities, treasures, living reliquaries.

Even now, they feel a little enchanted.

Old Rose Lore: Sealing the Cut

Here’s a lesser-known historical breadcrumb I can’t resist: some older rose-growing texts even recommend cauterizing — using heat to seal pruning cuts — as a way to protect the rose from disease or dieback.

Do we do this now? Not typically.

But I love knowing the lengths our ancestors went to guard their roses — not just as plants, but as living altars worthy of care and protection.

A Rose Pilgrimage (In Community Dreaming Phase)

For years, I have imagined a worldwide Rose pilgrimage — an All the Places & Things Rose Tour.

There is no set itinerary at this moment. No package. No deals. We are firmly in the dreaming phase — a crucial phase that cannot be rushed.

This is a slow unfurling bloom — a journey shaped over time through story, memory, intuition, and the shared longings of those who feel drawn to walk with the Rose. If that is you, I invite you to dream alongside me.

This adventure has no set dates yet.
No fixed costs.
No pressure to arrive anywhere before its time.

It will be fine-tuned through these blog posts, through your shared insights and questions, and through the collective vision of those who feel called to travel abroad with me someday.

Timing will come when it’s ready.
Logistics will come when they are meant to.

For now, we imagine together.

Tentative Rose Tour Map

Know of a special place, person, or experience connected to the Rose that feels essential? Send me a message with the details — I’d love to explore it and possibly weave it into the journey.

🌹 Bulgaria — Kazanlak (The Rose Valley)
Every spring, before the sun rises too high, fields of Rosa damascena are harvested by hand — petals gathered cool with night air, songs rising with the dawn. This is one of the world’s great rose-oil heartlands. A single vial of rose otto holds the memory of a thousand dawns.

🌹 Morocco — Kelaat M’Gouna (Valley of Roses)
Here, the Rose is celebrated with colorful processions and joyful music. Rosewater is poured generously — onto hands, into hair, into the air itself.

🌹 Italy (Tuscany) — Roseto Botanico Carla Fineschi
A living library of roses — wild, historic, rare, nearly forgotten — gathered not for spectacle, but for preservation.

🌹 France (Île-de-France) — Roseraie du Val-de-Marne
One of the greatest rosariums in the world — created through devotion, study, and care. This is where love for the Rose became a legacy.

🌹 France (Provence) — Grasse
The ancient heart of perfumery — where roses are distilled, blended, and woven into memory. The spell of a thousand roses creates a single drop of perfume.

🌹 Turkey — Isparta
Another major rose essential oil region, where harvest happens quietly, early, and with great care.

🌹 Iran — Qamsar (perhaps someday it will be safe to visit)
Each spring, rosewater is distilled in copper stills — steam rising, petals dissolving into sweetness. Rose is culinary magic in Persian cooking.

This map is only a beginning. We will collectively dream it into being, calling in all kindred spirits who walk the path of the Rose.

Is that you?

Staying Connected & Dreaming Together

If this series speaks to you — if the Rose stirs something in your body, your memory, and calls sweetly to you — I warmly invite you to subscribe to my blog and website.

This is how we stay in touch.
This is how the Rose Tour will slowly take shape.
This is how collective dreaming becomes something real, grounded, and beautifully timed.

Subscribers will be the first to receive new posts in this series, future rose rituals, recipes, lore, and new details about the unfolding Rose pilgrimage — including how community contribution takes shape — all when the time is right.

A Simple Invitation

Tell me your absolute favorite things about Roses and why you love them too:

🌹 What is your favorite rose species or variety, and why?
🌹 What is your favorite rose recipe or ritual?
🌹 What does the smell of roses remind you of? Is there a special memory you can still smell if you close your eyes?

This series will continue — into kitchen witchery, healing rites and ritual, and the many ways the Rose teaches us how to love with our whole heart, from a grounded place filled with awe.

Until then & with all my love, 

May your heart be thorn-wise,
Your devotion steady,
And may your inner beauty blossom into fullness.

— The Rose Witch 🌹🕯️