The Savvy Sage
Article

Blooming Bulbs

Crocus. photos by Joy Humphrey
Crocus. photos by Joy Humphrey

I planted bulbs for the first time this year. I'm not sure why I never did this before, especially since my first “Aha!” moment of plant growing came from a pot of crocus bulbs I received when I was 11. I had no faith that they would flower—I barely even knew what they were--but when they actually did, I thought in amazement, “It works!” I can still feel the thrill I experienced over that small miracle some 50 years later. But I never thought to repeat that experience when I started to garden as an adult. Perhaps that's because, having lived most of my life in Southern California, I wasn't surrounded by bulb-heavy neighborhood gardens. But last year, experiencing my first spring as a Northern Californian, I was delighted to see bulbs popping up everywhere. I must have said, “Look at those daffodils!” about one thousand times. If my husband ever rolled his eyes, I never saw it; I was looking at the daffs.

Daffodil.
Daffodil.

This spring it was my turn. So I ordered bulbs online, and in January, I set out to plant them in various containers around my garden. In my mind, I had about 35 bulbs. In reality, I had 127. Not sure how that happened, but I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one who has lost count of what was in her online cart. I planted three cultivars of daffodils (Narcissus), hyacinths (Hyacinthus) in white and all shades of blue, grape hyacinths (Muscari), and tulips (Tulipa) in all the colors. And I planted 12 crocus.

Hyacinth.
Hyacinth.

I experienced the same thrill I had as a child when I saw the leaves of the first bulbs push through the soil. With every flower that bloomed, I thought in amazement, “It works!” As I write this, I still have a few daffodils and grape hyacinths brightening the landscape, a hyacinth here and there standing stoutly and providing me with wonderful fragrance, and the tulips are just coming into their own.  My crocus bulbs, for whatever mysterious reason, have only recently pushed out their leaves and have yet to bloom. User error? Maybe. But regardless, they are giving me the gift of anticipation. The 11-year-old in me can't wait to see if it works.