Now that the author has harvested the last of her summer crops, it’s time to think about planting spring-blooming bulbs in the garden. 

“Bulbs blooming inside in winter seem to me a delightful alternative to florist flowers, and a lot cheaper … Longer lasting, too.”

— Page Dickey, “Uprooted: A Gardener Reflects on Beginning Again,” 2020

I finally feel as though fall has arrived in my garden. We’ve harvested the pears, hazelnuts and the last of the tomatoes, cucumbers and cayenne peppers. Our new dehydrator has turned out to be a worthwhile purchase as we’ve used it to make a variety of dried foods from a portion of our harvests. I enjoy knowing that some of my summer garden will keep in the pantry long after the garden itself has died back or gone into dormancy.

It’s not yet time for me to go into winter hibernation mode (one of my favorite states of being). There’s plenty still to do in the garden, and the recent cooler, moisture weather reminds me that my window of opportunity never lasts as long as I’d like.

One of the fall chores I haven’t gotten around to yet is planting spring-blooming bulbs. Every year I think perhaps I have enough bulb flowers and I might skip this autumn chore, but then I always have a second thought: Perhaps there are other bulb flowers I could add to my garden that would make it really pop with color next spring. I usually go with my second thought.

Page Dickey’s book “Uprooted” does not engender thoughts of bulb-planting restraint. On the contrary, she devotes several pages to descriptions of her favorite bulb flowers, which include various species of narcissus, tulip, fritillary and erythronium.

Dickey’s process for growing spring-blooming bulbs is to first plant the bulbs in terracotta pots in the fall and place them in cold frames. She removes the pots in February and March and brings them indoors to force the bulbs to bloom.

After the flowers fade, Dickey stores the potted bulbs in an out-of-the-way place (“their foliage soon looks a mess”) and waters them occasionally to keep the bulbs from drying out. Either in late spring or fall, she digs them into her garden beds or the orchard meadow where they bloom the following spring. Once the potted bulbs are planted outdoors, she fills the pots with fresh soil and begins the process all over again.

The cost of a well-made cold frame can run several hundred dollars, or DIYers can construct cold frames from plans available online. Several years ago, I bought an inexpensive cold frame and it fell apart before spring arrived. I also experimented with using straw bales and old windows for a cold frame, but I learned it’s important that the front is built lower than the back (about one foot for the front and three feet in the back).

Of course, you don’t need a cold frame to force bulbs to bloom. Storing potted bulbs someplace chilly and then bringing them inside in late winter will produce the same results. Dickey suggests storing potted bulbs in an ice chest in the garage or in an extra refrigerator. “The idea is to give them a three- to four-month chilling period without letting them freeze,” she says.

For gardeners who don’t care about having spring bulbs blooming in the house during the winter, fall is the time to dig them directly into the garden. I’ve found that the most important part of planting bulbs is to know how deep to plant them. The rule of thumb is to plant bulbs twice as deep as the bulb is tall. Large-bulbed plants like tulips and daffodils are planted about 6 inches deep, whereas smaller bulbs like fritillaries and erythroniums are usually planted 3 to 4 inches deep.

Bulbs that are planted too deep tend to rot, or they bloom later than usual, if at all. If bulbs are planted too shallow, they will often dry out during hot weather. In my yard, they’re likely to be dug up by roving turkeys.

I add 1 tablespoon of bone meal to the bottom of the planting hole for bulbs. Bone meal is an organic source of phosphorus that supports root growth.

Now let’s get into some of Dickey’s picks for spring-blooming bulbs:

Narcissus: Dickey leans toward smaller-flowered varieties. ‘Jetfire’ and ‘Jack Snipe’ are cyclamineus daffodil hybrids; ‘Jetfire’ has bright yellow, reflexed petals and an orange corona, and ‘Jack Snipe’ has white swept-back petals and a butter-yellow corona.

Dickey also recommends the miniature ‘Little Gem’ and ‘Toto’ cultivars, both growing only 4 inches tall and bearing several flowers on each stem. ‘Little Gem’ has a golden-yellow corona, and ‘Toto’ has white petals and a smaller, cream-colored corona. ‘Segovia’ is also a smaller-cupped daffodil with overlapping, rounded white petals and a somewhat flattened pale-yellow corona.

‘Hawera’ is a triandrus type of daffodil, often called “angel’s tears” because of its clusters of drooping, canary-colored flowerheads, which are mildly fragrant. ‘Minnow’ is a tazetta-type narcissus with clusters of white-petaled flowers and small-cupped, pale-yellow coronas.

Tulips: Dickey prefers species tulips. Tulipa bagtalinii grows 4 inches tall and has bright yellow or apricot flowers; T. clusiana is also called the “radish tulip” because of its red and white coloring. When they open, the pointed petals are shaped like miniature stars. T. clusiana ‘Lady Jane’ is a hybrid that has similar coloring as the species plant but grows on 12-inch stems.

Fritillaries: F. meleagris, or checkered lily, is a drooping type of fritillary with reddish-brown or purple-checkered flowers that grow eight to 12 inches tall. F. uva-vulpis, also called Fox’s grape fritillary, look like an upside-down lampshade in a dusty purple color with yellow tips. I want to add our native F. affinis, or chocolate lily, with mottled green/yellow/brownish-purple coloring.

Erythronium: E. ‘Pagoda’, or trout lily, is a large-leaved plant with 8-inch stems that each bear three to five yellow-petaled flowers, and E. californicum has white flowers. Southern Oregon’s native erythronium species, E. hendersonii, has swept-back lavender and white petals.