Earlier this week, an email landed in my inbox that had me rolling my eyes in exasperation and exclaiming out loud This again? Haven’t I just done this?
No, it wasn’t a work email or any life admin issue. Just a seasonal newsletter from my local garden center reminding me it will soon be time to buy and plant my tulips.
But Mickey, I thought you love tulips. You write about them like they’re the bee’s knees.
Reader, I do love tulips! But it feels like I’ve juuuust planted bulbs yesterday (it wasn’t, it was almost a year ago), and now I’m supposed to do it all over again.
Some years, I fully embrace this seasonal garden job. Other times – such as this fall, for instance – I’m a bit tulip-weary. So my usual modus operandi is to try to justify my choice and therefore find reasons why I shouldn’t plant tulips. You could call it a horticultural case of confirmation bias.
However, I’m also a horticultural optimist; as most gardeners are, I suspect. So alongside all the reasons why we shouldn’t plant tulips, I thought I’d mention all the solutions we can employ to overcome this tulip pessimism.
1. Tulips are annuals, so we will have to keep replanting them.
Let’s start with my obvious annoyance with tulips this year, shall we? Chances are that most of the stunning tulips for sale in stores or garden catalogs are a one-and-done kind of affair. The more unique the flower, the less likely it is to come back the same next year.
Modern bulbs have been hybridized to look a certain way – large flower cups, interesting petal variegation, swirly or frilly edges. However, as a general rule, the traits that make them attractive, make them attractive once.
After their first spring, the specialty tulip cultivars might come back, but it’s very likely that not all the bulbs will. For some of them, we’re lucky if half of the bulbs resprout.
And the ones that do will not be as robust. The flowers will be smaller and generally on shorter stems. By their third and fourth year, there won’t be much left of these fancy tulip bulbs.
Another thing that I’ve noticed in my garden is that once I cut a tulip stem to bring indoors (to brighten up my dark living room in early spring), that particular bulb will produce a much smaller flower the following year. In a sense, tulips are the opposite of ‘cut and come again’ plants.
So the following fall, I’ll either have to make do with a less than perfect tulip footprint or buy more bulbs to supplement the depleted ones.
Is there a fix for this?
Yes, for this particular “do not plant tulips” problem, there is a relatively easy fix. However, it comes with a shift in mindset. We need to buy tulips that will naturalize well. Generally, the closer a cultivar is to the original wild tulip, the more likely it is to naturalize (also called perennialize) well.
We only need to plant these types of tulips once. And we don’t even need to lift them once they’re done blooming; we can just leave them in the ground. Then, as the years go by, the bulbs will divide underground and every offshoot will become its own tulip. It saves us money (on buying), time (on planting) and effort (because goodness me, it’s not fun to plant bulbs on a soaking November day).
The mindset shift comes in learning to shun the most showy groups of tulips in favor of the most robust ones. They’re equally stunning, but in a different way.
I wrote a separate guide on bulbs that perennialize well. And some tips on how I increased the chances of tulips naturalizing in my garden. Have a look at this article.
But if you’re in a hurry, here are the cliffnotes.
Tulips that you can naturalize: species tulips (also known as botanical tulips), Greigii group, Fosterianna group, Kaufmanniana group (aka water lily tulips), Darwin hybrids.
Tulips that will not naturalize well: Rembrandt, Parrot, Viridiflora, Fringed, Triumph.
2. Tulip fire is a death sentence for our tulips.
If I ever found myself in possession of a gardening nemesis, the last thing I would wish upon them would be tulip fire.
Botrytis blight, also called tulip fire, is caused by the fungus Botrytis tulipae. It’s a relatively common tulip disease, but its prevalence doesn’t make it less frustrating.
Tulip fire is more likely to strike when the weather is overcast and damp for a prolonged period of time. (Hello, that’s the entirety of winter and spring around these parts!). If tulips have been damaged by frost and hail, there are even more entry points for this fungus.
Much like blight affects all parts of a tomato plant, so does tulip fire infect all parts of a tulip: from leaves to stems to flowers.
The leaves get distorted and spotted – sometimes with the spots spreading so wide that they unite into giant marks. The tulip stems also become spotted and may even rot.
As for the flowers, if you’re lucky enough to get any, they will invariably suffer the same fate. Small round spots pop up on the petals and make them wilt and fall off prematurely. On light-colored petals, the spots usually appear brown. On darker colored petals, they appear white or cream.
And once you dig out the bulb, you may notice that it is dotted with sclerotia, a black or brown fungal crust (kind of like mouse droppings or tiny pebbles). These fungal pouches will survive in the soil even when there are no tulips around.
And that’s the kicker!
These sclerotia may lurk in the ground for years, especially in areas with mild winters, making that particular patch a no-no for tulips for up to three years.
Is there a fix for this tulip problem?
Once the fungus takes hold, there’s not much we can do other than keep it from spreading by removing all the infected material and destroying it.
A common source of Botrytis blight is infected bulbs. So every time you buy bulbs, give them a thorough inspection before planting them. If you spot any signs of mold, DO NOT PLANT the bulbs.
Bulbs are also more likely to become infected if we accidentally damage them, either in the process of planting them or when they’re already in the ground. So be gentle with the spade and the fork when you dig around an area where you know you’ve planted tulip bulbs.
Frustratingly, even healthy bulbs are not spared. Since Botrytis blight is a fungus, it’s airborne and it can simply make its way into our garden uninvited.
That’s why good disease management is key.
Remove and throw away any infected material as soon as you see it. Do not compost blighted tulips.
Improve air flow by not overcrowding the bulbs, especially if you tend to have wet springs. If you do like a packed tulip bed, see if you can mix and match cultivars of different heights.
Avoid watering bulbs unnecessarily. And especially important, avoid watering foliage.
We can’t completely prevent tulip fire, since we can’t control the weather or microscopic fungi; but we can improve our chances by practicing good plant hygiene and proper plant rotation.
3. Tulip bulbs are an irresistible snack for wildlife.
I vividly remember the year when I found myself the unwilling proprietor of a corner snack bar for squirrels. I loved the little buggers because up to that point they had been harmless to my garden and a good source of entertainment for years.
All it took was one bad year of dwindling food supplies in my Central Pennsylvania climate and they quickly decided that tulip bulbs were on the menu.
I did not (and still don’t) have the patience to be out in the garden sprinkling chili powder on the bulbs after every rainy day to keep these hungry customers away. And by that point it was too late anyway.
Tulip bulbs are a delicacy for other wildlife as well. Mice, voles and deer can be voracious consumers of bulbs, especially in areas where there’s a lot of deforestation and wildlife population displacement. Deer will even eat the flowers clean off the tulips after they have bloomed.
Is there a fix for this tulip problem?
There are several tips floating around the internet that will supposedly deter hungry critters; but I think the most effective methods are ones that protect the bulbs, rather than attempt to chase away the animals.
Solution #1: Plant tulips in containers.
First of all, you can experiment with planting your tulip bulbs in large containers. Then cover the top of the containers with hardwire cloth (half inch galvanized wire mesh should keep most critters out). When the bulbs sprout in spring, you can remove the mesh.
If you’d like to give this method a try, but still get a tulip bed look, try burying the containers in your garden borders. They’ll be protected from all sides, but still look like they’re part of the garden.
Solution #2: Plant tulips in a bulb basket.
I wrote about how to use a bulb basket at length in this article, so I’ll just give you the gist now.
A bulb-planting basket is basically like a covered colander that you put the bulbs in and then bury. Once the tulips start growing, their stems will make their way through the holes in the basket and open up normally.
There are a few types of baskets, both with and without the lid. The ones without the lid are meant more for achieving a clumping effect look, and less for bulb protection. So if you have a hungry critters problem, choose baskets that come with a lid.
In general, I think metal mesh baskets are more efficient than plastic ones and last longer. If they don’t come with a lid, you can use them in combination with a chicken wire cloche.
Solution #3: Plant your bulbs in a lined-up trench.
I’ve learned this trick from a book for flower farmers, but I haven’t tried it yet because it requires a larger investment than the previous two methods. And it’s also a lot of work.
Basically, you dig a trench. Line up the bottom and the sides of the trench with metal mesh. Then place your bulbs at the bottom of the trench, on the mesh. You then fill the trench back with soil and secure the margins of the wire with ties or twine above ground level.
I warned you, it sounds like a lot of effort for tulips, no matter how pretty they may be.
If you have this big of a problem with wildlife, it might be time to switch to planting daffodils, hyacinths and alliums as your bulbs of choice.
4. Tulip bulbs can be tricky to store.
Unless you’re storing them in the ground – aka naturalizing them – the most likely scenario is that you’ll have to dig up your tulips once the foliage is completely dead, store them over the summer months, and then have to replant them back at the end of fall.
I’ve had mixed success with storing bulbs. Again, it’s a case of “it works for years until it doesn’t.” And last year, I had all sorts of problems with my stored bulbs.
Let me assure you that I inspected every single bulb I put into storage. And that I stored them in a cool and dry place, in a box that allowed plenty of ventilation.Yet I still found some bulbs that went from healthy to non-viable within a few months. A few bulbs had rotted in storage, while a handful of others were completely desiccated.
Is there a fix for this tulip problem?
There’s only so much you can do about it, once you’ve made sure you’ve followed all the best practices.
If you decide to dig out your bulbs after they’ve flowered, it’s important that you wait until all the foliage is dry. Once the flowers are gone, the leaves redirect energy back to the bulb to prepare it for a new season of bloom. The stronger your bulb, the higher the chances it will keep well in storage.
Carefully lift the bulbs, making sure not to damage them in the process. Then shake the excess soil and allow the bulbs to cure for a few days, preferably in the sun. I dry them in a cardboard box on my table, just in case there are hungry furry friends around.
Store the dry bulbs in a cool, dark and well-ventilated place, preferably surrounded by material that will absorb any remaining excess moisture (such as sawdust, sand, cardboard or paper bags).
Yes, the difficulty of storing them in a cool place at the height of summer is not lost on me. In previous homes, where space allowed, I stored tulip bulbs in the fridge. (Never in the freezer!) Now I just keep them in my cool pantry or in the basement.
What I should get better at is checking on the stored bulbs once a month to nip any problems in the bud. Discarding faulty bulbs as early as possible means the rot and fungi are less likely to spread.
The trick is that this would require me to be even more organized and timely at the height of summer, when frankly I have so many other gardening tasks vying for my attention.
I’m still on the fence about planting more tulip bulbs in my garden this year. I have about a month to decide, since tulips should be in the ground by late November in my area.
But I might just give them a miss this year, knowing fully well that I’ll come down with a serious case of FOMO between now and next spring. To compensate though, I’ll plant my usual lasagna bulb container and peruse online stores for some tulips that naturalize well for next year. Come spring, I’ll just have to find contentment with the bulbs that have already perennialized in my small garden.