As a gladiolus corm, I am not truly a dormant bulb, but a specialized underground storage stem. My entire purpose for existing through the winter is to preserve the life force and genetic blueprint within me, using the energy stored in my starchy flesh to fuel a spectacular rebirth come spring. Here is the process from my perspective.
My preparation for storage begins not when I am lifted from the soil, but while I am still attached to the dying foliage above. As the daylight shortens and temperatures drop, the plant senses the end of the growing season. The green leaves, through photosynthesis, send their final energy reserves down to me. This process is crucial. I cannot be rushed. Please allow my foliage to yellow and wither naturally; this is how I seal myself off from the outside world and convert those last sugars into the stable starches that will sustain me for months. Cutting the green leaves too early starves me, leaving me weak and unlikely to survive storage.
Once my foliage has completely browned, you gently lift me from my earthy home. This is a vulnerable time. I am surrounded by soilborne fungi and bacteria that would love to feast on my moist, nutrient-rich tissues. You must brush off the soil gently and then allow me to cure. Curing is my way of forming a protective barrier. By leaving me in a warm, dry, and airy place for about two to three weeks, my outer layers desiccate and form a new, papery tunic. This hardened shell is my primary defense against rot and desiccation during my long sleep. Please do not wash me with water, as this traps moisture and invites decay.
My metabolism slows to a near standstill during dormancy, but I am still respiring minutely. My needs are simple but non-negotiable. I require a cool, dark, and dry environment. Ideal temperatures for me are between 4°C and 10°C (40°F and 50°F). Temperatures much colder than this will cause the water inside my cells to freeze, rupturing my tissues and killing me. Warm and humid conditions, on the other hand, signal a false spring, prompting me to break dormancy prematurely and deplete my energy stores. They also encourage mold and rot. A mesh bag, paper bag, or a crate filled with dry peat moss, vermiculite, or wood shavings provides the perfect bed, allowing for essential air circulation around me and my cormlets.
Even in ideal conditions, my slumber should not be completely forgotten. A monthly check-up is appreciated. Look for any signs of trouble, such as soft, squishy spots (rot) or shriveled, lightweight corms (severe desiccation). Remove any corms showing signs of rot immediately to prevent the problem from spreading to healthy ones like me. If I seem to be shriveling, the air might be too dry; a slightly more humid medium can help, but be cautious. This vigilance ensures that only the strongest of us will be planted to carry on our lineage next season.
