From my perspective, a hollyhock plant, I must reach a certain level of maturity before I can even consider producing flowers. If you planted me from seed this season, I am likely still in my juvenile vegetative stage. My sole focus is on establishing a strong root system and growing healthy leaves to gather as much sunlight as possible. Flowering is an immense energy expenditure, and I simply do not have the resources for it yet. Most of my kind are biennials, meaning we typically spend our first year growing foliage and then flower, set seed, and complete our life cycle in the second year. Please be patient with me; I am building my strength for a spectacular display next year.
Sunlight is my food, my fuel, my everything. I need a full serving of it—at least six to eight hours of direct, unfiltered sunlight each day to photosynthesize enough energy to produce buds. If I am planted in too much shade, or even in dappled light, my entire system is compromised. My stems may become weak and spindly as I stretch desperately towards any available light source. In this state of energy conservation, blooming is the first process my biology abandons. It is a survival mechanism. Without ample sunlight, I cannot manufacture the sugars required to form the complex structures of my flowers. Ensure my place in the garden is a bright, sunny spot where I can bask and recharge.
What you feed me, or don't feed me, has a direct impact on my ability to bloom. While nutrients are vital, the wrong kind can be detrimental. If you provide me with a fertilizer that is excessively high in nitrogen, you are essentially instructing me to focus entirely on leaf production. Nitrogen promotes vigorous green growth, which is wonderful for my foliage but tells my biological programming to prioritize leaves over flowers. I require a more balanced diet or a fertilizer higher in phosphorus (the middle number on a fertilizer package) to encourage bud formation. Phosphorus supports the energy transfer and root development needed for successful flowering. Too much of a good thing (nitrogen) can actually prevent my blooms.
Stress is a major inhibitor of my flowering cycle. If my roots are sitting in waterlogged, poorly draining soil, I am effectively suffocating. Root rot sets in, and my entire health declines. Conversely, if I am subjected to prolonged periods of drought, I become dehydrated and cannot transport nutrients effectively. Furthermore, I am often plagued by pests like hollyhock rust, a fungal disease that covers my leaves in orange spots, or insects like Japanese beetles that chew my foliage. Fighting off these attacks drains my energy reserves. When I am in a constant state of defense or recovery, flowering becomes a low priority. My survival instinct kicks in, and reproduction (blooming) is put on hold until conditions improve.
Your well-intentioned gardening actions can sometimes delay my blooms. If you are cutting me back too aggressively or at the wrong time, you might be removing the very stalks where my flower buds were preparing to form. I develop my flower spikes on main and lateral stems. While deadheading (removing spent flowers) can encourage me to produce more blooms later in the season, cutting back the main stalk prematurely will eliminate any chance of flowering that year. Please allow my central spike to grow undisturbed. Only after I have finished blooming should you consider cutting the flower stalk back to encourage a potential second, though smaller, flush of flowers.
