You may not see it, but my world exists largely underground. My ability to produce those stunning pink, red, or white flowers is directly tied to the energy stored in my bulb. Flowering is an incredibly energy-intensive process for me. If I was recently divided or transplanted, I have had to expend immense energy re-establishing my root system in new soil, leaving little in reserve for blossoms. Similarly, if my foliage was cut back too early last season, you robbed me of my solar panels. I need those long, strappy leaves to photosynthesize and pack my bulb with food for next year's flower show. Please allow my leaves to die back naturally; they are not an eyesore but my lifeline.
I am a creature of specific habits, honed by my South African origins. I crave abundant, direct sunlight during my active growth and flowering period in the late summer and fall. If I am planted in too much shade, I simply cannot manufacture enough food, and my priority becomes survival, not reproduction. Conversely, my relationship with water is a delicate dance. During my spring and summer dormancy, I prefer to be on the dry side. Waterlogged soil around my dormant bulb will cause me to rot. However, when I begin my growth cycle in late summer, I need consistent moisture to fuel my flower stalk and leaf production. An erratic watering schedule during this critical time is a major cause of bud blast (where my flower bud aborts).
Patience is a virtue with bulbs like me. If I was grown from a seed or a small offset, I may simply be too juvenile to flower. I need to reach a certain size and store a critical mass of energy before I can even consider the task. This can take a few seasons. On the opposite end of the spectrum, I might be too mature and overcrowded. While I enjoy being slightly pot-bound, a severely congested clump of bulbs leads to intense competition for water, nutrients, and space. All my energy goes into sustaining the massive colony, leaving none for the spectacular floral display you desire.
My flowering cycle is governed by the seasons. To initiate a flower bud, I require a distinct period of winter rest. This period of cooler temperatures (above freezing but ideally between 35-50°F) is my crucial reset button. If you live in a very warm USDA zone (like 10 or above) where the ground never gets cool, or if you lifted my bulbs and stored them in a consistently warm place, my internal clock gets confused. Without that seasonal cue, I may only produce leaves, as the signal to shift energy into flower production was never received. A proper winter chill is non-negotiable for my performance.
