Once upon a time, according to various ancient Greek myths, there was a gorgeous looking bloke called Hyacinthus. That's about all the myths agree on, including exactly what his relationship was - or wasn't - with the Greek god Apollo, and possibly - or possibly not - with Zephyr, the god of the west wind. The one thing the myths do agree on was that Hyacinthus got bonked on the head with a discus, and died. His blood spilled on the ground, and Apollo either turned him into the flower we know as Hyacinth, or else the flowers where his blood was spilled were stained with it for ever, a rich reddish purple.
Subscribe now for unlimited access.
$0/
(min cost $0)
or signup to continue reading
This is possibly not a story that makes you want to race out and find a potted hyacinth to place on your desk. But I popped into a garden centre last week, and there were massed pots of hyacinth bulbs, the leaves and flower heads poking their heads up above the soil, ready to bloom in the next few weeks.
Hyacinths are happiest growing outside in a sunny spot, where they will be nicely chilled over winter and bloom in spring. We have a few hyacinths growing by our front door. They erupt in to flower when I least expect it. Suddenly their perfume greets us coming in and going out. This is why I didn't buy any of the pots last week - we are adequately hyacinthed. Three or four hyacinth flowers suit us perfectly, even though many people prefer them grown en masse, Floriade style. The combined scent can be a bit overwhelming though.
But ours are outdoor, spring hyacinths. The ones I saw last week were bulbs that have been artificially chilled, then "forced" so they bloom mid-winter, exactly when we need a bit of colour and a heck of a lot of perfume. One, or even two hyacinths in a pot is winter luxury. You can even grow hyacinth bulbs in a special "bulb vase" of water, in case you don't want soil in the kitchen or on your desk.
If you don't have a bulb vase you just need a container where the bulb can be propped up, its base just touching the water. A couple of toothpicks jammed into a glass will do the trick, though you may need to fiddle about till you get them at the right height.
Traditionally, a couple of pieces of charcoal are placed in the base of the vase to help keep the water fresh. Keep it in a cool, darkened room or even in the larder, adding water as necessary. The leaves will appear first, and then the flower bud. This is the moment to move the vase to a sunny spot, on the window sill or as close to the window as you can.
The flower should last for weeks. If you find yourself sneezing, move yourself or move the flower - the scent can really be strong in a confined space. Water-grown hyacinth bulbs are supposed to be thrown out after blooming, as common garden wisdom says they won't flower again.
But a hyacinth bulb doesn't take up much space, so give it a chance - plant it in that sunny spot, and hopefully next spring you'll get leaves that will feed the bulb, and the year after that, more blooms and more bulbs growing from the original one.
Even under the best conditions, hyacinths are only supposed to keep blooming and multiplying for 2-5 years. This is not necessarily the case. Ours have taken whatever the weather has dished out for about 14 years and are still going - not blooming every year, nor multiplying much, but still giving that wonderful gust of spring blossoms when we open the front door. Maybe, quite accidentally, ours were planted in the perfect hyacinth spot, though it's equally likely that this spring, or the next, or the one after that, we will have no hyacinths at all.
Hyacinths come in shades of pink, red, blue, yellow, coral, or white. The wild ones are a bright reddish purple, and much smaller than the modern cultivars. If you are growing yours in a pot or in the garden, feed the leaves with a slow release fertiliser as soon as the plants have finished blooming, and do not overwater, or the bulbs may rot. Ours definitely are never overwatered - they are in spot that doesn't get watered at all, except by the rain. They have never been fed either, but have survived and (mostly) bloomed anyway. Nor have they been munched by possums, wallabies or wombats, which in our garden is a triumph.
I don't usually advise readers to go and buy a plant, much less one grown in a slightly contrary way to its natural growing conditions. But those "just about to burst into bloom and perfume the room" hyacinths looked tempting. If you want a treat for winter - or know someone else who does - this is the time to mooch out and snavel a pot or two, and see the flower unfold with the promise of spring to come.
This week I have:
- Bought two stunning deep red-leafed smoke bushes at a slightly extravagant price. But the truly dark purple-leafed smoke bushes have been hard to find for years. They are "wow" plants in any garden, for their rich summer purple foliage, their rich orange autumn leaves, and the mid-summer smoke-like spires of flowers. These two potted plants will turn into head-high bushes in a couple of years, and reach their full two metres or so a couple of years after that. It's going to be exciting to watch them grow.
- Found the onion seeds, but have yet to plant them. It's been too cold - not for the onions, which like the cold, but for me to venture out into garden gales.
- Collected the runner beans that dried on the vine, and put the seeds aside for planting out in spring, for next summer's bean crop.
- Picked masses of bright purple sage for our vases and those of friends. The blooms will die back when the really hard frosts hit, but just now they are spectacular.
- Watched a few hundred tree dahlias on their long brittle stems blow over in the winter gales.
- Planted rose cuttings in moist sand, to hopefully root next spring and summer, and become big rambling bushes in years to come.