Three years ago, I decided to brighten my winter with an amaryllis. Its stunning bloom was a sight to behold amid the chilly, gray days. I fully expected the plant to follow its natural rhythm: bloom gloriously, then fade back into dormancy. But my amaryllis had other plans. It defied expectations, continuing to throw up blooms throughout the winter.
When spring arrived, I waited for the foliage to die back so I could give it the rest it needed. Yet, it didn’t happen. The leaves persisted, lush and green, so I moved the plant to a corner of my living room—out of sight but not entirely forgotten. I watered it occasionally, curious but not overly invested.
By the next winter, my faithful amaryllis surprised me again. This time, it gifted me a baby: a tiny bulblet. Encouraged, I separated the two and nurtured them through another year. By the following winter, I was rewarded with two sets of gorgeous flowering bulbs. It felt like a small miracle, the kind of unexpected joy that only plants can bring.
I treated them as I had before, giving them a bit of water and letting the periodic foliage come and go. This year, however, things didn’t go as planned. No visual treat greeted me during the frigid days. Both bulbs seemed healthy, with robust root systems and vibrant leaves, but not a single flower appeared. My once-reliable winter companion now stood as a green (OK fine,
it was a bit brown and gnarly) but flowerless mystery.
So here I am, faced with a dilemma: to persevere or to let go? Should I repot the bulbs, reposition them, or simply plant them outside in the spring? Or should I, with a heavy heart, move on and toss them out? The guilt gnaws at me, especially as I glance at the new amaryllis I bought to fill the void. It’s thriving, flaunting its blooms as if to taunt its delinquent predecessors.
What Went Wrong?
Curiosity led me down a research rabbit hole, and here’s what I discovered:
Amaryllis Dormancy: Unlike their wild relatives, cultivated amaryllis bulbs need a rest period to bloom again. This involves letting the foliage die back naturally, reducing watering, and placing the bulb in a cool, dark place for 8-12 weeks.
Energy Reserves: Flowering requires significant energy. If the bulb doesn’t receive enough sunlight or nutrients during its growing period, it may lack the resources to produce blooms.
Pot Size and Soil: Amaryllis bulbs prefer being slightly crowded in their pots. Overly spacious containers or nutrient-deficient soil can impact their flowering cycle.
Seasonal Light Cycles: These bulbs are sensitive to light and temperature changes. Mimicking their natural environment can encourage blooms.
What Should I Do Now?
After absorbing this newfound wisdom, here’s my plan of action:
Assess the Soil and Pot: I’ll check the soil quality and pot size to ensure both bulbs have optimal growing conditions.
Initiate Dormancy: While it’s a bit late, I might still try to simulate a rest period by cutting back on watering and placing the bulbs in a dark, cool spot.
Plant Outside: Once spring arrives, I’ll consider planting them outdoors. In warmer climates, amaryllis can naturalize and bloom in their own time.
Patience and Perseverance: Plants have their rhythms, and sometimes they need time to recalibrate. Perhaps my bulbs are simply taking a sabbatical.
Lessons Learned
This experience has been a reminder that plants, like people, don’t always follow a predictable path. Caring for them involves trial, error, and a bit of faith. Whether my amaryllis blooms again or not, it’s been a journey of growth—for both of us.
If you’ve faced a similar conundrum with your plants, I’d love to hear your story. What did you do when your green companions strayed from expectations? Let’s share our triumphs and lessons as we navigate the joys and mysteries of plant care together.
Comments