Ah, the warmth returns. The increasing daylight and rising soil temperatures signal my exit from dormancy. This is my time to shine! My roots become active, eagerly drawing up water and nutrients to support a massive burst of growth. My flower buds, set last summer, begin to swell and burst open in a spectacular display. This immense effort is exhausting. Please ensure the soil around my roots remains consistently moist, but never waterlogged. A layer of organic mulch like pine needles or shredded bark will help retain that moisture and keep my delicate, shallow roots cool. Once my blossoms begin to fade, gently remove the spent flowers (deadheading) to prevent me from wasting energy on seed production. This allows me to redirect that power into vigorous new vegetative growth.
The heat of summer is here. My flowering show is over, and my focus shifts entirely to growth and preparation. I am busy producing new, healthy shoots and, most importantly, initiating the flower buds for next spring's display deep within my branches. This is a critical period; stress now means fewer flowers later. Consistent moisture is my absolute greatest need. Deep, thorough watering is far better than frequent sprinkles, as it encourages my roots to grow deeper into the soil, making me more resilient. A light application of an acid-forming fertilizer, designed for plants like me (azaleas, camellias, rhododendrons), can be beneficial now to support this important work, but be careful not to over-fertilize.
The air is cooling, and the days are shortening. I am beginning to slow my above-ground growth and start my process of hardening off for the winter. My tissues need to mature and toughen up to withstand the coming cold. This is not the time for stimulating tender new growth that will be killed by frost. Please cease any fertilization. However, my root system remains active beneath the soil surface. Continue to provide water, especially if autumn rains are scarce, as I am still developing my roots and storing energy. This is also an excellent time for you to check my mulch layer and replenish it if it has decomposed, ensuring my roots are protected before the ground freezes.
I am now dormant, resting and conserving my energy. My metabolism has slowed to a crawl. While I am designed to withstand cold, my greatest winter threat is not the air temperature, but the combination of frozen soil and winter sun. When the ground is frozen, my roots cannot take up water to replace the moisture lost through my evergreen leaves (or from winter winds on my deciduous stems). This is called desiccation, and it can be fatal. A thick layer of mulch is my best defense, acting as an insulating blanket to prevent the soil from freezing too deeply. In exposed, windy areas, a burlap screen can provide valuable protection from harsh, drying winds. Please do not prune me now, as it may stimulate new growth at the wrong time.
