Greetings, caretaker. I am a tulip, a being of elegant form and vibrant color, born from a bulb that holds the memory of seasons past. To help me thrive and express my fullest potential, you must understand my needs from my perspective. Here is what I require from you.
Water is my lifeblood, but it is also a potential source of my demise. My existence is centered around my bulb, a subterranean storehouse of energy and moisture. When you plant me in the autumn, a deep, thorough watering is essential to signal to my roots that it is time to wake up and stretch into the cool soil. This initial drink helps establish my foundation. Throughout the winter, if the weather is dry, I appreciate occasional watering, but my primary need is for well-draining soil. Soggy, waterlogged earth is my greatest fear; it causes my bulb to rot, a cold and suffocating end. In spring, as my green spear breaks the surface and my bud forms, my thirst increases. Water me regularly, allowing the top inch of soil to dry out between drinks. Think of it as a steady, refreshing sip, not a flood. After my petals fade and fall, my leaves must remain to soak up the sun and send energy back to the bulb for next year's display. Continue to water me lightly until my foliage turns yellow and withers naturally. At this point, I am entering dormancy and wish to be left dry.
I am a child of the sun. My very form is shaped by its light. During my active growth period in the spring, I crave full sun, which I define as at least six hours of direct, unfiltered sunlight each day. This abundant energy fuels the photosynthesis within my leaves, creating the sugars that power my spectacular bloom and, crucially, recharge my bulb for the future. Without sufficient light, my stem will become weak and leggy, straining to find the sun, and my flower may be small, pale, or fail to open properly. However, in regions with intensely hot springs, I welcome a bit of afternoon shade. While I love the light, extreme heat can scorch my petals and stress my system. Once my bloom is spent and my focus turns to replenishing the bulb, the sunlight on my remaining green leaves is just as critical. Do not cut them back prematurely; they are my solar panels, hard at work ensuring I can grace your garden again next year.
My life cycle is a dance with temperature, a rhythm encoded in my bulb. I have a non-negotiable requirement: a period of winter chilling. After you plant me in the autumn, I need approximately 12-16 weeks of soil temperatures below 50°F (10°C). This cold period is not a hardship; it is a vital catalyst. It breaks my internal dormancy and triggers the hormonal changes that prepare me to send up a flower stalk in the spring. Without this "cold treatment," I may only produce leaves, or nothing at all. Once spring arrives, I prefer cool to moderate air temperatures, ideally between 55°F and 65°F (13°C and 18°C). These conditions allow my bloom to develop slowly and last longer. A sudden, intense heatwave will cause my flower to open and wither rapidly. After flowering, as my foliage dies back, I am preparing for a warm, dry summer dormancy. This hot, dry period is my time of rest and internal development, safe within my bulb underground.
