From my perspective as a Nerine plant, the approach of winter is not a time of death, but a period of essential, deep rest. As the daylight shortens and temperatures drop, I receive the signal to begin my dormancy. My vibrant green leaves will start to yellow and wither. Do not be alarmed; this is a natural and necessary process. I am withdrawing energy back into my true source of life: my bulb, buried safely underground. This bulb is my larder and my fortress, packed with all the nutrients I need to survive the cold and generate new growth when warmth returns. My primary need during this time is a cool, dry rest period. Excessive moisture around my bulb while I am dormant is my greatest enemy, as it can lead to rot and my demise.
My tolerance for cold is intrinsically linked to my species. As a genus originating from South Africa, I am not adapted to severe, prolonged freezing. Generally, my bulbs can withstand brief dips to around 25°F (-4°C), but only if my soil is exceptionally well-drained. Sustained temperatures below this, especially in wet conditions, are perilous. The water inside my cells can freeze, causing irreparable damage to my tissues. In American zones, this means my survival outdoors is typically limited to zones 8 and warmer, where winter lows rarely breach this critical threshold. If you garden in zone 7 or colder, I will require significant protection or relocation to see another spring.
If I am planted in zones 8 or 9, I can often remain in the ground with a little help. Once my foliage has died back completely, you can tidy it up. Then, the most important step is to apply a thick, dry, insulating mulch over my planting area. A layer of 3 to 4 inches of straw, pine bark, or shredded leaves is ideal. This mulch acts as a protective blanket, buffering the soil temperature and preventing the freeze-thaw cycles that can heave my bulbs out of the ground. Crucially, ensure the mulch is loose and does not become a soggy, matted layer that traps moisture against my crown. A dry blanket is a warm blanket; a wet one is a death shroud.
In zones 7 and below, the winter cold is simply too intense for my survival in the earth. Before the ground freezes solid, you must carefully dig up my bulbs. Gently brush off the loose soil, but do not wash me; a little dry soil is fine. Please allow me to dry in a warm, airy place for a few days—this cures my outer scales and helps prevent rot. Once dry, you have two options for my overwintering sanctuary. The first is to pack my bulbs in a box or paper bag filled with slightly moist peat moss or vermiculite, ensuring we do not touch each other to prevent any potential rot from spreading. The second, and simpler, method is to place me, bare, in a mesh bag or an old onion sack. Store me in a cool, dark, and absolutely frost-free location, such as an unheated garage or a basement where temperatures remain consistently between 40-50°F (4-10°C). This mimics the cool, dry dormancy my biology demands.
My internal clock will tell me when it is time to awaken. As the soil warms in spring, you can replant me outdoors after the danger of a hard frost has passed. For those of you in colder zones who lifted me, look for the first signs of new root growth at my base. This is my signal that I am ready to be replanted, given water, and begin a new cycle of growth. For those in warmer zones who mulched me, you can gently pull back the mulch as the weather stabilizes. With the return of warmth and your careful attention, I will send up new leaves and, in time, reward you with my stunning, elegant blooms.
