Bulb Brightness
Time to think about future you, the one who's endured four months of UK winter
Look at this cheeky f**ker! Glad to see my bulb planting this weekend wasn’t just an investment in my future, soaked-to-the-bone, colour-deprived self, but also this little prick who decided to dig up two of my pots, then just stare right at me while decimating my (not cheap, fancy!) bulbs as I furiously banged on the window.
My son’s new favourite thing is to ask ‘the google’ what the weather is going to be like tomorrow and when it said Sunday was going to be sunny (!) I knew it was bulb day. I’ve seen lots of people saying you’re supposed to wait until November for tulips (sure, including myself, last week, in this very newsletter), but surely end of October is fine? I looked at the weather app, checked my diary for the next few weekends (packed full of excuses not to make it into the garden), and put a plan in place.
As mentioned last week, I’m determined to have a good spring showing in 2025, haunted by rotten bulbs that hadn’t made it into the ground in 2024. All I managed to grow this spring was these tulips, the bulbs of which I discovered in the great mass unweeding post-moving in and chucked back underground in hope. Look how bright they are! I cannot emphasise how little I did to deserve these beauties — spring bulbs are so undemanding of you, all they ask is to be buried deep in a hole all winter and left alone. Same, etc.
If you’ve got even the tiniest pot you can put outside a door, or the littlest scrap of mud or grass, I’d urge you to get some bulbs underground sharpish. Don’t even worry about weeding or whatever first (truly terrible advice, I’m sure), just get them in.
A few years ago some of my friends were having a rough time and I bought us all some bulbs as a reminder than better times will quickly come around again, whether we can believe it or not.
Right now, things are golden and autumnal, the drawn-in evenings are novelty (new candles! Blankets!) and you’re likely ready for some hunkering down after a busy summer. Fast-forward to February and years of experience living in the UK will have you know that the feeling doesn’t last. You’ll wonder how long it can possibly rain, you’ll grow sick of layering up only to have to peel it off the minute you enter an over-heated train/tube/office, and you’ll barely be able to imagine ever walking down your grey street in a t-shirt again. You will be bored of being cosy. It can feel grim post-Christmas for many reasons, and the first shoots of spring bulbs are the ultimate reminder that brighter, colour-filled times are coming, in the garden and in life. When £1 daffs season starts in the supermarket, we know we’ve nearly made it.
I think the way spring bulbs not only survive the winter, but thrive on it, coming into being because of the change of the seasons (with processes relying on the cold as much as the warmth) and beckon us back into outdoor spaces again is magical.
I actually am a winter-lover — I hate the heat, I go all-in for Christmas, I even enjoy New Year’s Eve and the cleansing reset of January. But still, I have increasingly come to love the idea of planting bulbs in autumn, knowing the joy they will give you as the winter starts to peel away. Ok, you get it, they’re the garden dawn after the darkness.
I got overexcited a few months back and bought some bulbs in a Farmer Gracy sale, then got even more excited when my friend shared a Martin’s Money link to a bulb bundle from Thompson & Morgan which boasted of £82 worth of 268 bulbs for £15 (yes the group chat is wild these days). Add to that some extra bulb gifts from my mum and a packet of honeybells I couldn’t resist in the supermarket last weekend and it’s fair to say I’d got a fair few knocking around. So, of course, I felt a bit overwhelmed when it was time to do the work and I could feel myself backing away from the task instead of eating the (garden) frog.
So, powered by watching 785 videos of people making “bulb lasagnas” — where you plant bulbs in layers so, in theory, you get a succession of flowers popping out through spring — I set about organising my bulbs into flowering month and also groups of colours I thought would look nice together.
Then? Then I kind of panicked and my daughter said I had to sit down for her 17 course tea party, so there was a pause. After which I just got up and started grabbing combos and decided to keep going until the bulbs were done, the pots were filled… or Peppa Pig and Tiger called another tea party. Whatever came first.
I’d had an excellent hour at the garden centre a few weeks back buying some nice new pots — all half price as all garden centre pots must by law be. I made some crocks for the bottom by smashing up a small pot (because Monty Don always does) and cracked on. After I’d done each pot, I took a picture and, in mark-up mode in my phone, made some notes of wtf was inside, because you always think you’ll definitely remember what you planted… and rarely do.
As is clear so far, I’m by no means an expert, I barely qualify as novice, so I won’t be instructional, that’s not what I’m here for. But some other thoughts if I’ve now bullied you into planting some spring bulbs…
Actually look at the back of the packets where it says when they’ll flower: Spring flowers don’t last long, give yourself a succession of colour by choosing some that pop out at different times. Tulips don’t come til late in Spring, so think about daffodils, crocuses, irises, all in different shapes sizes and colours to get things started as early as possible. More joy.
Think about some loose colour groupings. If you want: I am not one for a colour scheme, I’m more “I’ll take anything that grows” but with tulips the colour range is so vast. This year I’ve opted for some Queen of the Night bulbs and popped them in with Swan Wing bulbs in two black planters. I’ve popped anything blue I got in the mega value pack in with daffodils. They’ll look amazing if Squirrel F*ck-kin doesn’t scoff them all by the end of the week.
Get some tulips with frilly edges: Like the Swan Wings above, or these Brisbanes I’ve just seen and now need to have. I just think they look fun?
In fact, the sillier the better: I got these because they were called Fabio and though that was funny. Ditto New Santa.
Put them in your lawn: I was intrigued by videos of people putting bulbs around trees and in the grass, just by lifting up areas, throwing some bulbs in and stomping it back down like a grass duvet, so I’ve given it a go… results TBD.
You can never have too many: Ok, that’s bad advice, I’m just overexcited. But I couldn’t believe how quickly my supply was used up in a few pots. Dammit, I guess I’ll have to buy some more… There are loads of good sales on at the moment, so have a look around, or just grab them in the supermarket where they’re really reasonable too.
I’m off to get some gravel to top my pots off, to see if it helps deter my furry friend from bringing his mates for a daily feast of bulb lasagna. Let me know in the comments if you’re planted anything fun…