From my perspective as a carnation plant, pruning is not an act of harm but a conversation. It is a signal that tells me to redirect my energy. I am a perennial at heart, programmed for both vegetative growth and prolific flowering. My natural inclination is to grow tall and leggy, channeling energy into a single main stem to hold my blossoms high for pollinators. However, this can leave me looking sparse and can weaken my structure. When you prune me, you are speaking the language of apical dominance. By removing my main growing tip, you break the hormonal signal that suppresses the growth of the lateral buds lower down on my stems. This simple act encourages me to become denser, bushier, and ultimately, stronger.
The most crucial conversation for bushiness happens when I am young. Once I, as a young plant, have established myself in your garden or pot and have developed about four to six pairs of true leaves, it is time for my first "pinch." This is not a harsh cut but a gentle removal of the very top set of leaves and the tiny growing tip between them. You can do this easily with your fingernails. From my viewpoint, this is a startling but beneficial event. The loss of my primary apical meristem (the main growth point) causes a redistribution of auxins, the plant hormones that enforce top-down growth. This liberation allows the dormant buds in the leaf axils lower on my stem to awaken and develop into new branches. Instead of one tall stem, I will now begin to form two, three, or even four new stems from that single point.
As I mature and begin to flower, our dialogue continues. After each flower on a stem has faded, you should practice deadheading. This involves snipping off the spent flower head, making the cut just above a set of healthy leaves or a lateral node on the flower stem. From my standpoint, a spent flower is a signal to start producing seeds, which is a massive energy drain. By removing it, you prevent me from wasting resources and instead coax me into producing more lateral shoots and, consequently, more flower buds. For a continual bushy shape, you can also lightly trim back longer, non-flowering stems by about one-third their length during the growing season, always cutting just above a node. This will again encourage me to branch out at that point, filling in my form.
At the end of my growing season, or in very early spring before new growth emerges, I benefit from a more significant reset. You may cut my stems back by about half, or even down to a low, healthy set of leaves near the base. This may seem drastic, but from my perspective, it is a rejuvenating rest. It clears away any old, woody, or potentially diseased growth and allows me to channel all my stored energy into producing vibrant, new, and bushy basal shoots when the next season begins. This process ensures I do not become overly woody and sparse in the center, maintaining a compact and vigorous form for years to come.
