The Bulb Maven

The Morning Walkabout

I usually post on the Walkabout of things that are blooming in the greenhouse or the garden, and sometimes sightings of special things like the time I saw two bald eagles fall out of the sky locked together in play or combat. Two days ago, however, my walkabout was somewhere else in the Sierra foothills, where I had gone on a very quick trip to gather some seed.

I used to live in that area, and I know it well. It is an area very rich in bulbs, so I can estimate the best time to go back to collect some seed, and I usually get it right. Every year is a bit different, but when we were in the area a month ago for our wildflower hiking and camping trip, I checked out several areas and found abundant bloom. This was actually unusual for this year, for it hasn't been a good year for flowers or seed production, but in two of the areas I visited, there had been massive clearing of brush along the roads, apparently for fire prevention, and in those areas the bloom was impressive, often in places where there had been little evidence of any bulbs existing at all. It has been postulated that after wildfires, which are frequent in this area, the blooming of bulbs is stimulated by the smoke produced by the fire, since smoke can stimulate seed germination and, possibly, flower production in bulbs. Other theories attribute the blooming to the release of nutrients through the ash produced. Well, in these areas there was no ash and no smoke, so it seems that it might just be the removal of competing vegetation or the exposure to more sunlight and warmth.

Most of my seed collecting takes place along the roads where the seed will fall in the ditches or on the road itself, so I certainly don't feel guilty about gathering the few pods I need. Our first stop was to collect some seeds of the beautiful pink flowered form of Calochortus tolmiei pcitured here. The seed pods are pendulous, and if the weather warms up suddenly they will open and drop the seeds all at once, so these seeds are not easy to time right. This time it worked well. Our next stop was at higher elevation for seeds of Calochortus monophyllus, where colonies stretch for miles along both sides of the road. The plants are so small that the seed pods can even bury themsleves in the duff, so they are very hard to see.

Our last stop was along a beautiful road that travels along a huge pool where water from the spillway of the Oroville dam falls. Here there are colonies of Calochortus albus growing on steep cliffs. It was very early morning, and the sun was rising, bathing the whole area in a golden glow and reflecting off the pool, with resident flocks of Canada geese flying low across the water. Acorn woodpeckers were chattering, mockingbirds singing, and many other birds in chorus. It felt like heaven.

I had to return home that day, a long seven hour drive, with one quick stop along the way to check out an area where Fritillaria purdyi grows, and was happy to find a couple in bloom, although most are in bud at this time.

We drove down our driveway at 6pm, right when the solar eclipse was at its maximum. I wanted so much to see it, but rushing around, getting the dogs squared away and my things out of the car, I pretty much gave up. Then I came down the stairs of the barn, and there dancing on the floor of the barn were dozens of 'rings of fire', the perfect image of the eclipse projected on the floor of the barn from the sunlight filtering through the leaves of the trees outside. I was thrilled.

www.telosrarebulbs.com

Sowing Seeds

The big seed sowing takes place in autumn and early winter here at Telos.  This is due to the fact that the majority of bulbs grown here are from Mediterranean climates, regions that have cool rainy winters and summers that are dry.  The bulbs from such regions come into growth when the rains commence in autumn, and are dormant in the summer.  In their native regions seeds ripen in early summer, some staying attached to the pod until the rains commence, others being scattered on the dry ground where they lie until there is enough moisture for them to germinate.  For gardeners accustomed to sowing annuals, this seems to be a surprise that many seeds need cold temperatures to germinate.  Indeed, heat would either be fatal to the germinating seed, or would completely inhibit germination of the seeds of Mediterranean climate bulbs.  To the left is a germinated seed of Lewisia rediviva.

For most of the bulbs native to the western USA I place the seeds in slightly dampened vermiculite in a ziplock bag, then put the bag in the refrigerator.  In an evening I can bag up dozens of species this way.  The bags are checked regularly, and the seeds are sown as soon as any sign of germination takes place. This saves me a great deal of time, making seed sowing spread out over the winter.  In addition, if I have bad batches of seed, I am not filling up greenhouse space and wondering whether to throw the pots out. I can tell after two or three months that nothing is happening.  Germination of the species native to the western USA takes anywhere from two weeks to four months, the longer period needed for the alpine species.  Here is a bag of germinated Calochortus kennedyi, ready for sowing. 

Seeds of bulbs from the western Cape Province of South Africa can't be handled in this manner, for they need a diurnal swing of at least ten degrees F. to facilitate germination.  If placed in the unvarying conditions of a refrigerator they would not germinate.  They are sown in situ in the greenhouses.  Tiny seeds, such as those of Lachenalia are left uncovered.  Here is a pot of freshly sown Gladiolus carinatus seed.  The gladiolus seeds will be covered with a thin layer of sand or seed starting mix.

Seeds of South American members of the Family Amaryllidaceae are sown when they ripen.  Most amaryllid seed does not keep for long, so it should not be stored for more than about three months before sowing.  These are also sown in ziplock bags, but they are kept at room temperature, since these species are not from Mediterranean climates, and are usually subtropical.  I keep them in my office at room temperature, which will average about 60F.  Here is a bag of germinated Hippeastrum mandoni seed. 

Growing bulbs from seed is an exciting and satisfying experience, but one that most gardeners have not attempted.  Many bulbous species will mature to flowering in three to four years, and you can grow species this way that are difficult to find in commerce.  The seed lists of plant societies offer a tempting array of unusual bulbous species, and there are small specialty seed companies that offer even more.

www.telosrarebulbs.com 

Season's End

The shipping season is virtually over.  I can still ship some bulbs, but the winter-growing species that are in storage are sprouting and need to be planted.  In addition, most of the bulbs in pots need to be repotted before they are too far along in growth.  I leave my bulbs in their pots for two to three years, then the potting mix needs to be replaced, becoming deficient in nutrients and with salt buildup from fertilizer.  Disease organisms can also build up in old soil, and the soil becomes compacted from watering and breakdown.  The old potting mix I keep, if it doesn't look like it has any major problems, and I apply it to my flowerbeds.

Michelle and I have finished potting my Oxalis collection, a total of 541 pots, shown above.  I am delighted, and looking forward to the incredible display that will unfold over the winter.  This morning we cleaned seed that had been collected over the summer, putting the seed in small coin envelopes labeled with their botanical names.  We also sowed many California natives, by putting the seed in plastic bags in damp vermiculite.  The bags are placed in the refrigerator, and sown in pots as they germinate.  This is absolutely necessary for any species that come from high altitude, since they need a lengthy winter chilling before they will germinate.  I also handle a lot of the low elevation species this way, though, since it saves time.  I can bag up dozens of species in a very short time, place them in the refrigerator, and take out the bags when I see any sign of germination, and this spreads the seed sowing out over the winter.  You have to know what you are up to though, since some species, such as most of the South African ones, need a diurnal swing in temperature to germinate, so putting them in the refrigerator would not work.  It is a surprise to some people to find out that many seeds need cold temperatures to sprout, gardeners being more familiar with sowing the seeds of annuals and tomatoes, but all the winter-growing species, including Narcissus, Crocus, all the California natives and any from similar climates, must be sown in the autumn and exposed to cool temperatures.  I sow the great majority of seed at this time, since Telos grows so many bulbs from Mediterranean climates such as South Africa, California, Chile and the Mediterranean region, climates characterized by cool rainy winters and dry summers.

As one season ends, another begins, and this is the most exciting season of all at Telos Rare Bulbs.  Over the winter there will be a succession of bloom, and while winter rages outside, the greenhouses will be ablaze with color.  Right now there are just a few 'teasers', hinting at what lies ahead.  The Nerines are almost finished, but there are still plenty in bloom.  To the left is a beautiful hybrid I called 'Fiesta'.

The species Gladioli from the Cape Province of South Africa are starting into growth, with shoots visible in most of the pots.  One or two bloom in the fall.  Pretty little Gladiolus carmineus has already made an appearance, with its cheerful pink flowers appearing before the leaves emerge.  Here it is to the right. 

  Gladiolus stefaniae, seen here to the left, is a beauty, and just opened this morning.  In its native South Africa, it grows on steep cliffs in the spray of waterfalls, where it remains constantly moist in winter.  I should mention that the species Gladioli from the Cape Province of South Africa are nothing like the stiff gaudy hybrid Gladioli of commerce.  They are generally small and dainty in appearance, and are often sweetly scented.  There are other Gladioli that grow in summer, coming from other regions of Africa, and these formed the genetic basis of most the commercial Gladioli.  They are much larger, and more suitable for the garden.  I will post on Gladiolus later in the season.

A few Lachenalias are also starting to bloom, as well as Oxalis, mentioned in the previous post.  By Christmas there will be so much to see, Oxalis, Gladiolus, Lachenalias, more Crocus, some Narcissus, Tropaeolum, Romulea, and many more.  The display will peak in late winter when the California natives will be in full swing.  Who says winter is dull?

www.telosrarebulbs.com

Calostemma

There are not that many true bulbs native to Australia.  Mother Nature must have got bored by the time she got to that continent, deciding, from an evolutionary standpoint, to try something different.  The Duck Billed Platypus was her masterpiece, and kangaroos and wallabies are close seconds.

The enormous deserts of Australia needed plants that could withstand severe drought, so in their own independent Australian way, they developed a myriad of storage organs below ground that could store water, and get them through the hard times.  They take many forms, and I do grow just a few, but  since I mostly stick to bulbs, I will talk about one true bulb that is native to Australia, Calostemma purpureum.

This lovely bulb is widespread in Australia, and is usually purple, as seen above.  It is very easy to grow and flower, blooming at the end of summer, then producing its leaves throughout the winter, and going dormant in summer.  It can, I am told, tolerate summer water, although I let it go dry at that time.  I grow mine in five gallon pots, since they need to be planted deep.  They can take temperatures down to 24F, and could probably go lower if planted in the ground.  At one time my bulb collection was outside and unprotected, at which time I had problems with bulb fly in some members of the Family Amaryllidaceae, but Calostemma went through that period completely unscathed, maybe due to the depth of the bulbs.  They are vigorous and disease free, so I would strongly recommend them for California gardens, although I have never seen them growing anywhere.  Apparently, there are other colors in its native land, and I do have the yellow one, C. luteum (which some people think is just a color variation of C. purpureum), but after nine years since sowing the seed, I still haven't had a flower.  I was told they were slow from seed, but this is glacial.

The seeds themselves are interesting, since it is thought that they are not actually seeds at all but bulbils formed without the need of fertilization which are, therefore, genetically identical to the parent plant (this process, for the botanically minded, is called apomixis).  They are produced abundantly, and you can sow them, but then you wait, and wait, and wait some more.  Fortunately, the mature bulbs do offset.

I am really looking forward to the day when my yellow flowered Calostemmas will surprise me with a bud or two.  I know it will happen one day, and, when it does you will hear about it, rest assured.

www.telosrarebulbs.com

Boophane Revisited

My Boophane disticha seeds have ripened, and the umbel expanded to about twelve inches across.  The flower is seen at the left and was about four inches across.  Here's a picture of the umbel.

One umbel has already snapped off, and in its natural environment would go tumbling across the landscape, shedding ripe seeds as it went.  Boophane seeds are like small peas, but unlike peas they can't be dried and stored.  They will germinate immediately.  Such seeds are called recalcitrant seeds.

Now the beautiful fan of wavy grey leaves will develop.

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Pods Revisited

 I was trying to post yesterday on seed harvesting, but Typepad wasn't cooperating, so my blog was cut short, and I'll try again.

 I hand pollinate most of my bulbs, which sounds very nice, like I should be wandering around the greenhouses in a Laura Ashley dress with a trug on my arm wielding a camel hair paintbrush, but is actually a very time-consuming and tedious process.  I am not much for tedious and repetitive things unless they are dirty and strenuous (yes, it's true!).  I don't mind digging, mixing mountains of potting soil, or even repotting bulbs -- an endless task in a bulb nursery.  But I loathe watering.  And pollinating.  Well, after what seems like hours of delicately planting pollen in the right places, the heat wave came along.  All the immature seed pods and all of the open flowers, plus all the unopened buds on my bulbs were totally fried.  That will mean a gap in some species in about three or four years, but that's life in the nursery.  If it isn't heat, it is flooding in winter, rodents in the fall and winter, fungal disease, etc.  But, if everything worked out and I had no losses, maybe it would be like breeding rabbits, and I would be up to my shoulders in bulbs.  It helps to be philosophical about these things. 

I really enjoy, however, gathering the seeds.  It seems to fill some primal urge, and I feel good seeing all my bags of harvested seed.  I even enjoy the various shapes they take, like the inflated capsules of Veltheimia capensis above.  The seeds that had already ripened, like some California natives, the Lachenalias and Tropaeolums were OK, but all the Calochortus seeds were lost.  Calochortus seed lasts really well, however, and I have a refrigerated cache of seed.  With refrigeration, I have sown seed that is seven years old with very good results, but the seed must be stored properly, not exposed to the slightest moisture, and a frost-free refrigerator provides the perfect conditions.  Other seed, like Tropaeolum must be fresh, or it won't germinate at all.  Some seed of members of the family Amaryllidaceae has a very short 'shelf life', sometimes only a few weeks.  This applies to the black flat shiny seeds of Hippeastrum, while other amaryllid seed has no storage capacity at all, and can germinate while still on the plant.  Such seed looks like small green peas and cannot be held in storage.  This is a problem for seed banks, since you can't keep these seeds at all.  To preserve rare species with seeds like this (they call them 'recalcitrant seeds') they have to be kept in growth.

I have never got over the wonder of sowing tiny seeds, some almost dust-like they are so small, knowing that in a season or two there will be a plant or bulb.  Onion seeds are the best, they are finer than ground pepper, and in less than a year will produce a huge bulb.  Comparing culinary onions to the bulbs I grow, I am filled with envy.  To produce an onion-sized bulb from a Boophane seed will take about seven or eight years. 

Pods

This is very strange.  Yesterday I posted a brief comment on Boophane, and checking my blog, found it had disappeared!  Here it is again.

This blog started because I had returned from a trip and found my two ten-year-old Boophane disticha bulbs sending up flower buds for the first time, and I wanted to share this thrill.  The flower umbels were about four inches across. 

I pollinated the flowers by hand -- literally.  I rubbed the palm of my hand across each umbel, transferring the pollen to my palm, the rubbing it across the other one.  Then, I find out that the pollen is extremely toxic!  Ugh.  I think I feel OK.

Anyway, now the seeds are forming, and the umbel has expanded to about twelve inches across.  Once the seeds have matured and the umbel dried, the whole thing will break off, and it will blow away, tumbling across the landscape and scattering seeds as it goes.