From my perspective as a plant, light is my food. I use sunlight to perform photosynthesis, the process that creates the energy I need to grow and, most importantly, to produce flowers. If I am planted in a spot that is too shady, I simply cannot generate enough surplus energy to create blooms. My primary goal is survival, so I will direct all my limited energy into growing leaves and establishing a strong root system. Flowering is an energy-intensive luxury that I will forgo if I am starved of light. I require a minimum of six to eight hours of direct, unfiltered sunlight each day to feel strong enough to begin the flowering process.
You must understand my life cycle. I am a biennial plant. This means my life is naturally programmed over a two-year cycle. In my first year of growth, my entire biological purpose is to establish myself. I will focus my energy on developing a strong rosette of leaves and a robust root system to survive the winter. Producing flowers in my first year would be a dangerous diversion of resources, potentially weakening me before the cold sets in. It is in my second year that I am genetically triggered to bolt—sending up a tall flower spike—bloom, set seed, and then complete my life cycle. If you are expecting flowers from a first-year plant, you are simply asking me to go against my very nature.
The food you give me is crucial. If you provide me with a fertilizer that is too high in nitrogen, you are sending me a very specific chemical signal. Nitrogen promotes vigorous, green, leafy growth. It tells my systems to focus on producing foliage. While this might make me look large and lush to you, it is at the direct expense of flower production. I need a balanced diet, or one higher in phosphorus (the middle number in a fertilizer ratio, e.g., 5-10-5), to support the development of my buds and blooms. An excess of nitrogen keeps me in a perpetual vegetative state, and I will see no need to progress to the reproductive (flowering) stage.
When I am under attack or stress, my survival instincts take over entirely. Significant infestations by pests like Japanese beetles or spider mites, or diseases such as the fungal infection rust, force me to divert all my energy into defense and repair. Creating flowers becomes my lowest priority. Similarly, extreme environmental conditions—such as a severe drought, waterlogged roots that are suffocating me, or an unexpected late frost that damages my new growth—can shock my system. This stress can cause me to abort any developing flower buds or delay my flowering process indefinitely until conditions stabilize and I feel safe again.
Your well-intentioned gardening actions can sometimes confuse me. If you prune me back too severely or at the wrong time, you may accidentally be removing the nascent flower buds developing on my stalk. Furthermore, if I am a variety that blooms on a single, main stalk, and that stalk is damaged or broken, I may not have the resources or time to generate a new one that season. Conversely, if you do not deadhead my spent flowers after I bloom, I will channel all my energy into producing seeds for the next generation. This tells the plant that my reproductive duty is complete, and I will have no reason to produce more flowers.
