Tulips and azaleas decorate a Japanese-style garden at the New England Spring Flower Show in Boston, Friday, March 12, 2004. (AP Photo/Julia Malakie)
Tulips and azaleas decorate a Japanese-style garden at the New England Spring Flower Show in Boston, Friday, March 12, 2004. (AP Photo/Julia Malakie) Credit: ap — Julia Malakie

For years, as fall approached, I promised myself that I would plant tulips. But with so much to do before the snow flies, it was hard to invest time in something that will not bloom until spring.

One year, I finally did it, planting what I thought was a massive 15-square-foot strip of tulips. I had a new piece of open garden. I planned to pull the spent bulbs up in late spring and replant them elsewhere and then plant perennials in that spot.

My favorite tulip at the time was the parrot tulip. I put more than 200 bulbs into that small space. What happened the following spring was so dramatic and glorious that my life was forever changed. Now I must have tulips every year. I grow them for cutting and I use them in design work. Planted closely like this, it is easy to pull the entire stem, flower and bulb up, all at the same time.

These days I plant many hundreds of tulips. The bulbs are not expensive compared to what the blooms do for my wistful heart in early spring.

There are tulips that come back every year, but I choose to plant new ones annually. The reason for this is that in order to keep tulip bulbs happy, the tops must be left on until they are brown and all of the carbohydrates have been pulled back down into the bulb for the next year’s growth. As a gardener, I find this aggravating. In my world, gardens are always shifting and changing and ultimately, I am bothered about bulbs hidden under ground while I dig around. To this day, there are rouge tulips that pop up in my garden in the most unusual places. I keep thinking I will dig them out but never get around to it. Some are over 10 years old.

My love affair with tulips is shared with countless gardeners worldwide. This bulb has an amazing history, dating back to the 1500s. Tulips originated in Turkey and Asia. In fact, some of those original species of tulips are similar to the species tulips, or wild tulips, still sold today. They are generally diminutive in size, but enchanting nonetheless. Species tulips are lovely within settled plantings. I particularly enjoy them as permanent communities in a woodland setting.

The Turks bred the small species tulips to have larger flowers. In the late 1600s, a plant collector-breeder brought tulip bulbs to the Netherlands. This became a historic collision of plant and culture. The Dutch were so filled with lust for tulips that the flower became an object of economic speculation. Citizens across the spectrum, poor to wealthy, invested everything they had in tulip commodities. A devastating market crash ruined fortunes and lives. This period in Dutch history was called “tulipomania” and is still studied by historians and economists.

The quality of tulip bulbs is of paramount importance. The mixed bags of bulbs available in supermarkets and box stores are cheap and plentiful. Try not to be lured. If you have succumbed and purchased, planted and been disappointed, I sympathize. Do not give up.

I always purchase my bulbs from a reliable importer that takes care in harvest, storage and handling. For example, www.johnscheepers.com is a retail dealer that has a vast collection of prime bulbs. There are so many different types of tulips to choose from. This company also has excellent how-to information.

Everybody has their own taste, but I would like to share a word about color. If you want an astonishing tulip display, try to keep the number of colors in your planting to a minimum. I think the mixed bags look like sprinkles on a cupcake when they bloom, which hardly translates to the eye. Rarely do they all bloom at once, often resulting in a regrettable planting. Choose, rather, one to three colors that complement each other and are of the same bloom time. Online sources such as www.colorblends.com suggest inspirational combinations. If you are color-careful, you will enjoy the kind of well-planned display that you swoon over in magazines.

Planting tulips for spring is easier than you think. When I want tulips among my perennials, I dig a round hole with a flat bottom, about 8 inches deep. I place my bulbs on that flat bottom, side by side, then fill the hole with the same soil that I took out. I do not apply any fertilizers, nor do I sing any special song. The tulip bulb is, when you get it, a complete package. Inside each bulb is the tiny perfect tulip flower surrounded by a starchy mass that will allow it to grow fully into flowering. One could place a bulb in water and it would sprout and grow roots and flower all on its own.

I used to use bone meal during planting, but animals would always come looking for the bone and dig up my bulbs. If you are planting bulbs that will stay in place and you want to use fertilizer, greensand or phosphorus fertilizer works.

The following late spring, after flowering, sprinkle a nice low analysis organic fertilizer on your planting. But really, if you are growing for cut flowers, just plant the bulbs and walk away. The reward next spring far outweighs this fall’s work.

Liz Krieg is a longtime horticulturist. She lives and raises cut flowers in Bethel.