From my perspective, timing is everything. The ideal moment for you to take a cutting is during my active growth phase, typically in the warm, bright days of late spring or early summer. At this time, my internal systems are operating at peak efficiency. My sap is flowing vigorously, transporting a rich cocktail of auxins and other rooting hormones to my stems. This heightened metabolic activity means a cutting will have the maximum innate energy and hormonal drive to develop new roots rather than simply struggling to survive. Attempting this in winter, when I am dormant, is ill-advised; my energy is conserved, and I will be far less likely to muster the resources needed for such a demanding task.
Please choose your cutting site with care. You should look for a healthy, semi-hardwood stem section—one that is not too floppy and new (softwood) nor too old and rigid (hardwood). Using a sharp, sterilized blade is paramount. A clean, angled cut just below a leaf node (the bump on my stem where a leaf emerges) minimizes the open wound's surface area and helps prevent crushing my delicate vascular tissues, which are the very pathways that will eventually form roots. A ragged, torn cut from dull scissors is a severe injury, leaving me vulnerable to bacterial and fungal infections that could rot me before I even have a chance.
Once separated, my cutting's sole objective is to reduce water loss. My beautiful, broad leaves are designed for photosynthesis, but without roots to draw up water, they become a liability, transpiring moisture into the air and causing me to desiccate. You must remove the leaves from the lower third to half of the cutting. Leaving a few leaves at the top is crucial, however, as they will continue to perform limited photosynthesis to produce the energy needed for root formation. Some gardeners suggest dipping my cut end into a rooting hormone powder. While I possess natural hormones, this supplemental boost can significantly enhance the signal to my cells, urging them to differentiate into root cells more quickly and reliably.
I now require an environment that balances moisture and oxygen perfectly. You must place me in a well-draining, sterile medium, such as perlite, vermiculite, or a coarse potting mix. Water is essential, but saturation is a death sentence; it will push out the oxygen my cells need to respire and create energy, leading to rot. The medium must be kept consistently moist, like a wrung-out sponge. Enclosing my pot in a clear plastic bag or dome creates a miniature greenhouse, maintaining high humidity around my leaves and drastically reducing the rate of transpiration, allowing me to conserve every precious drop of water.
This is the most vulnerable period. I must be placed in a location with very bright, indirect light. Direct sun would cook me inside my humid dome. You must periodically open the cover to allow fresh air to circulate, preventing fungal growth. Resist the urge to tug on me to check for roots; this can shear off the delicate new root hairs that are just beginning to form. Instead, look for signs of new top growth—a tiny new leaf emerging is the surest signal from me that my underground root system has successfully established itself and I am ready, at last, to be transitioned to a more permanent home.
