From my perspective, the shortening daylight and cooling soil temperatures of autumn are not a threat, but a clear signal. It is time for me to enter my dormant phase. My above-ground growth—the delicate, bleeding heart-shaped flowers and lacy foliage—has already begun to yellow and wither. This is a purposeful act. I am withdrawing all my valuable energy and nutrients back into my core: my rhizomatous roots and crown, which lie safely tucked beneath the soil. This stored energy is my life savings, the vital reserve I will use to fuel my resurgence next spring. My entire being is focused on survival underground, allowing the parts that cannot withstand the freezing temperatures to die back naturally.
You may see my yellowing, drooping leaves and stems as a sign of neglect, but I am performing essential work. This process is called senescence. I am actively breaking down chlorophyll and other compounds, transporting every last bit of usable resource down into my root system. It is crucial that you do not cut my foliage back while it is still green. Interrupting this process would be like forcing me to abandon my savings on the ground, leaving me weakened and vulnerable for the winter ahead. Please be patient and allow me to complete this nutrient recovery on my own schedule.
Once my foliage has completely yellowed or been blackened by the first frost, and I have fully reclaimed my energy, then you may assist me. Gently cut my stems back to within an inch or two of the soil level. This tidies the area and helps prevent fungal spores from overwintering on the old debris. Next, I require a protective blanket. In my native woodland habitats, I am naturally insulated by a deep, fluffy layer of fallen leaves. In your garden, you can replicate this by applying a 3 to 4-inch layer of mulch over my root zone. Shredded leaves, bark chips, or straw are perfect. This layer does not heat me but instead maintains a consistently cold temperature, protecting my roots from the damaging cycle of freeze-thaw-freeze that can heave me out of the ground.
Beneath the mulch and eventual snow cover, I enter a state of deep dormancy. The snow is my greatest ally; it is an exceptional insulator that locks in the stable, cold environment I need. My metabolic processes slow to a near standstill, and I wait. I do not require water during this time, as I am not growing and the frozen ground would make absorption impossible. My only need is for a stable environment, free from disturbance. Please resist the urge to check on me or disrupt my insulating layers. I am safe, resting, and gathering strength for the longer, warmer days ahead.
The warmth of the spring sun will gradually penetrate the soil, signaling the end of my rest. As the danger of a hard frost passes, you can gently pull back the layer of mulch to allow the soil to warm. This invites my new, pinkish-white shoots to emerge unimpeded. With my energy reserves fully intact thanks to your careful autumn preparation, I will push forth with vigorous growth, ready to produce my characteristic arching stems of heart-shaped flowers once again, celebrating another successful cycle of survival and renewal.
