From our perspective as Bleeding Heart plants (*Lamprocapnos spectabilis*), the lengthening daylight hours and the rising ambient temperatures of late spring and early summer are not signals for continued growth, but rather a clear command to begin our retreat. Our finely tuned physiological systems perceive these changes as an indication that the coming season will be hot and potentially dry—conditions that are challenging for our soft, herbaceous growth. The intense sun can scorch our delicate foliage, and excessive transpiration (water loss through our leaves) would quickly lead to desiccation. Therefore, we initiate a carefully orchestrated process of senescence to conserve our most vital resource: energy.
Our response begins above the soil. We cease allocating precious energy and nutrients to maintaining our heart-shaped leaves and flowering stems. The green chlorophyll within our leaves breaks down and is reabsorbed, causing the once-lush foliage to turn a tell-tale yellow. Eventually, the entire above-ground portion of the plant—stems and leaves—will wither, turn brown, and collapse. To the casual observer, it may appear that we have died. However, this is a strategic sacrifice. By voluntarily shedding these parts, we drastically reduce our water needs and eliminate surfaces that could be damaged by heat or sunscald, allowing us to survive the harsh summer in a state of minimal metabolic activity.
The true essence of our being, the part that ensures our return, lies safely hidden beneath the soil. All the energy produced through photosynthesis during the favorable conditions of spring is not wasted; it is diligently transported downward and stored in our specialized underground structures called rhizomes. These fleshy, tuber-like roots act as a biological battery and a larder, packed with starches and nutrients. Throughout the summer dormancy, our existence is reduced to these dormant rhizomes. Our metabolic rate slows to a near standstill, just enough to maintain basic cellular functions while we wait patiently underground for the environmental conditions to shift once more in our favor.
Our summer slumber is not indefinite. The trigger for our re-emergence is the combination of cooling soil temperatures and the increased moisture provided by autumn rains. These conditions signal that the stressful heat has passed and that ample water is available to support new growth. Only then do we feel it is safe to break dormancy. We tap into the stored energy in our rhizomes to push new, tentative shoots toward the soil surface. This autumn growth is often minimal, primarily focusing on re-establishing a root system that will support a full and vigorous burst of growth the following spring, completing our annual cycle of growth, dormancy, and renewal.
