I feel the soil temperature rise and the days lengthen. My roots, which have been dormant through the cold, begin to stir, drawing moisture and nutrients upward. My crown sends forth new, palmate leaves, unfurling to bask in the gentle sun. This is my time of rapid growth. I appreciate a generous drink of water, especially if the spring is dry, but my roots despise sitting in soggy, waterlogged earth. A layer of mulch around my base helps retain that moisture and keeps my roots cool as the temperatures climb. Watch for aphids on my tender new shoots; a strong spray of water is often all I need to be comfortable again.
The energy I gathered in spring now surges upward, forming tall, majestic spires of buds. I am ready to put on my show! My flower spikes, covered in pea-like blossoms, open from the bottom up, attracting bumblebees and hummingbirds with their nectar. To prolong my blooming, you can deadhead the spent flower spikes before they set seed. This tells me to try for a second, smaller flush of flowers instead of putting all my energy into reproduction. If you wish for me to self-sow, however, leave a few spikes to mature and develop their fuzzy, pea-pod-like seed cases. Please ensure I receive deep, infrequent watering during periods of drought; consistent moisture is key to keeping my blooms vibrant.
As the sun's intensity wanes and the nights grow crisp, my above-ground life begins to slow. My flowering is complete, and my leaves may start to yellow and wither. This is not a sign of distress but a natural process. I am drawing energy back down into my crown and taproot to store for the winter. This is not the time for heavy fertilization, which would encourage tender new growth that would be killed by frost. Instead, after the first hard frost blackens my foliage, you can cut my stems back to ground level. This tidy-up helps prevent fungal diseases from overwintering in the decaying matter. A fresh layer of mulch applied after the ground cools will protect my crown from the freeze-thaw cycles of winter.
I am dormant now, alive but resting deep beneath the soil surface. My perennial crown and strong taproot are my survival system, waiting patiently for the spring's signal. The blanket of snow is my friend, providing a consistent, insulating layer against bitter cold. In regions with little snow, the mulch you applied in autumn is my primary protection. My main request this season is for peace; I need this period of cold rest to properly set buds for next year's growth. Please resist the urge to disturb the soil around me. I am gathering my strength, dreaming of the sun, and preparing for the magnificent cycle to begin again.
