Greetings, fellow cultivator. I am Calibrachoa, often called "Million Bells" for the prolific, petite blooms I joyously produce. While many of my kind are propagated from cuttings to maintain specific hues, growing me from seed is a rewarding journey of potential and patience. From my perspective, here is how you can help me flourish from a tiny speck of life into a cascading spectacle of color.
My seeds are incredibly fine, almost like dust. They contain a dormant spark of life, waiting for very specific signals to break their slumber. I require light to germinate; covering me with soil would be a death sentence, starving my nascent leaves of the energy they need to push through. Gently press me onto the surface of a fine, pre-moistened, sterile seed-starting mix. This ensures close contact for moisture uptake without burying my potential. The medium must be consistently damp but not waterlogged, as my tiny form is susceptible to rot. A clear plastic dome covering our tray will create the humid, still environment I crave for my first days.
My metabolism, the engine of my growth, is highly dependent on temperature. For my seed coat to split and my radicle (my first root) to emerge, I need consistent bottom heat. A seedling heat mat set to 70-75°F (21-24°C) is ideal. This warmth mimics the perfect spring soil and accelerates the biochemical processes inside me. Once I germinate, my demand for light becomes immense. Without it, I will become leggy, weak, and stretch desperately toward any light source. Provide me with 14-16 hours of bright, direct light daily from a south-facing window or, better yet, a grow light positioned just a few inches above my tender leaves.
As my first true leaves develop, you can remove the humidity dome to discourage fungal diseases. This is a critical time for my root system. Water me from below by placing the tray in a shallow dish of water, allowing me to drink what I need without disturbing my delicate structure or wetting my foliage. When I have developed two or three sets of true leaves, it is time to gently transplant me into a larger, individual cell. Handle me only by my leaves; my stem is easily bruised and crushed. A gentle, water-soluble fertilizer at half-strength will give me the nutrients I need to build strong roots and foliage.
I have been coddled in a controlled environment, and the outside world is a shock. Direct sun, wind, and fluctuating temperatures can scorch and stunt me if I am not prepared. This process is called "hardening off." Over 7-10 days, gradually introduce me to outdoor conditions. Start with a shaded, sheltered location for just an hour or two, increasing the time and exposure to sunlight each day. This slow acclimation allows my cuticle (the waxy layer on my leaves) to thicken and my cells to strengthen, preparing me for a life of vibrant growth in your garden or containers.
