From my perspective, the world is cold and still. My metabolism has slowed to a near standstill. I am dormant, a state of essential rest. If I am a hardy variety planted in the ground, my roots are protected by a thick mulch blanket. If I am a tender potted fuchsia, I am stored in a cool, dark, frost-free place like a garage or basement. My caretaker must ensure my soil is just barely moist to prevent my roots from desiccating completely, but any more would cause them to rot in my dormant state. I am not growing; I am waiting, conserving all my energy for the spring.
I begin to sense the gradual lengthening of days and a slight warming in the air. This is the signal to wake up. For potted fuchsias brought out of storage, it is time for repotting and pruning. My caretaker should cut back last year's growth to healthy buds, which will encourage strong, new, bushy shoots. Fresh, well-draining potting soil provides me with new nutrients. I am moved to a brighter, slightly warmer location, and watering is increased gently as I start to produce my first tender, green leaves. I am hungry for the sun and ready to begin again.
This is my time to grow with immense vigor! The risk of frost is passing across most regions, and I can finally be moved to my summer home outdoors. I crave a spot with bright, indirect light or morning sun with afternoon shade; the harsh afternoon sun will scorch my delicate leaves. I am thirsty, so regular watering is crucial as my root system expands and my foliage flourishes. To support this explosive growth and prepare for blooming, I need a high-phosphorus fertilizer every two to four weeks. My caretaker should pinch out the growing tips of my new shoots to encourage me to become a fuller, bushier plant with more potential flowering sites.
I am in my full glory, dancing with my intricate, pendulous flowers. To sustain this spectacular show, my needs are constant. Water is paramount; I may need a deep drink every day during heatwaves to prevent my buds from dropping and my leaves from wilting. The regular feeding schedule must continue. Deadheading—the removal of spent flowers—is my favorite grooming. It tells me to stop producing seeds and instead direct all my energy into creating even more dazzling blooms. I must be watched for pests like aphids and spider mites, who are also most active now.
The intensity of the sun lessens, and the nights grow cooler. My flowering begins to slow. This is the time for my caretaker to stop fertilizing me. This allows my current growth to harden off and prepare for the dormancy to come. I will continue to photosynthesize as long as my leaves are green, storing energy in my roots for the long winter. Watering should be reduced gradually as the temperatures drop. Before the first hard frost, I must be prepared for winter, whether that means a heavy mulch for my roots or being brought into a protected shelter.
The cycle completes. After any killing frost, my above-ground growth will blacken and die back. For garden plants, my caretaker should cut my stems down and pile a thick, insulating layer of mulch, straw, or leaves over my crown to protect my dormant root system from freezing temperatures. For tender plants, I am pruned back and moved to my dark, cool, winter quarters. I require only minimal moisture to survive. I enter a state of deep rest, dreaming of the sun and the next season's dance.
