As in, do not plant your roses in the direct path of a windy gale... [From A Book About Roses..., by Dean Hole, p. 54:] Some, having heard that a free circulation of air and abundance of sunshine are essential elements of success, select a spot which would be excellent for a windmill, observatory, beacon, or Martello tower; and there the poor Rose-trees stand, or, more accurately speaking, wobble, with their leaves, like King Lear's silver locks, rudely blown and drenched by the 'to-and-fro contending wind and rain.' I have seen a garden of Roses -- I mean a collection of Roseless trees -- in front of a 'noble mansion proudly placed upon a commanding eminence,' where, if you called upon a gusty day, the wind blew the powder from the footman's hair as soon as he had opened the front door, and other doors witnin volleyed and thundered a feu de joie in honour of the coming guest.