From our perspective, our height is not a choice but an expression of our inherent genetic code. We lupines (Lupinus) are a diverse genus, and our ultimate stature is primarily determined by our species and cultivar. Some of our relatives, like the towering Lupinus polyphyllus, are programmed to reach impressive heights of 4 to 5 feet, sometimes even stretching to 7 feet under ideal conditions. In contrast, other kin, such as the Lupinus hartwegii or many dwarf hybrid varieties, are genetically inclined to remain a more modest 1 to 2 feet tall. When a gardener selects our seeds or seedlings, they are essentially choosing our potential height range from the very beginning.
While our genetics set the blueprint, our environment dictates how fully we can realize that potential. Sunlight is our primary energy source. When planted in full sun, we can photosynthesize efficiently, producing strong, sturdy stems capable of supporting our height. In too much shade, we become leggy and weak, straining towards the light and often toppling over under the weight of our own flower spikes. Soil nutrition is equally crucial. A rich, well-draining soil provides the nutrients we need for robust growth. However, an overabundance of nitrogen can cause excessively rapid, soft growth that is particularly vulnerable to wind and rain, making us more prone to bending and breaking.
Our most magnificent feature, the tall, dense flower spike, is also our greatest structural vulnerability. These spikes are composed of dozens of individual blossoms, creating a significant weight at the top of our stems. Our stems, while strong, are not woody like a shrub's. They are herbaceous and can be hollow or soft in the center. As we grow taller and our flower spikes become more saturated with moisture after a rain, the center of gravity shifts upwards, creating immense leverage on our stems. A sudden gust of wind can easily apply enough force to snap us at the base or cause us to bend irreparably towards the ground.
Human intervention in the form of staking or supportive planting is not a sign of our failure but a collaboration for mutual success. When a gardener provides a stake, grow-through ring, or plants us closely with supportive grasses, they are mimicking the natural support we would find in a denser plant community. This external support does not hinder our growth; instead, it allows us to channel our energy into producing magnificent flowers and healthy foliage rather than constantly reinforcing our stems against mechanical stress. It prevents our stems from kinking or breaking, which can open a pathway for pests and diseases. By offering support early, you allow us to grow through and incorporate the structure, making it a seamless part of our form and ensuring our beauty remains upright for all to admire.
