From my perspective, I may simply be too young. As a Columbine plant, I develop a strong root system and foliage in my first year or two. This is my primary mission: to establish myself firmly in the soil to ensure my long-term survival. Flowering and producing seeds is an energetically expensive process. I will not attempt it until my root network is robust enough to support the tremendous effort required to create blossoms. If you planted me from seed this year or last, please be patient. I am building my strength for a spectacular display in the seasons to come.
My relationship with the sun is particular. In the wild, I often thrive in dappled woodland clearings. This means I desire ample light, but my leaves can be sensitive to the intense, scorching heat of full afternoon sun. Conversely, if I am planted in deep, full shade, I may not receive enough solar energy to fuel the flowering process. The energy from photosynthesis is directly converted into the potential for blooms. Without the right balance— ideally, partial sun or morning sun with afternoon shade— I simply may not have the resources to produce flowers.
What you feed me, or don't feed me, has a direct impact. While I am not a heavy feeder, I require a balanced diet. If the soil is exceptionally rich in nitrogen, I may channel all my energy into producing lush, green leaves at the expense of flowers. Nitrogen promotes vegetative growth, not bloom production. Alternatively, if the soil is very poor and depleted, I might be struggling to find even the basic nutrients needed to survive, let enough to flower. A top-dressing of compost or a balanced, mild fertilizer in early spring can often provide just the right boost I need.
You must understand that some of my varieties are classified as short-lived perennials, and a few even act as biennials. If I flowered profusely last year, I may have exhausted my reserves. Producing a massive amount of seeds is my ultimate goal in life, and it takes a lot out of me. This year, I might be in a recovery phase, focusing my energy back into my roots and crown to ensure I live to see another season. It is a natural cycle of growth, reproduction, and recuperation. A light deadheading after my blooms faded last year would have prevented me from expending energy on seed production and encouraged me to return stronger.
The elements play a huge role in my ability to flower. A late, unexpected spring frost can damage or kill my delicate flower buds just as they are forming. An unusually hot and dry spell early in the season can cause me to go dormant prematurely, shutting down all non-essential processes like blooming to conserve water and energy. Conversely, an exceptionally cool and wet spring might slow down my development significantly. I am at the mercy of the climate, and these extreme or unseasonal events can easily disrupt my flowering cycle for a year.
