Crocus, a.k.a. Spriiiiiiing!

Here in the Piedmont of North Carolina, winter rages on. Well, "rage" is certainly overstating it, but winter certainly has not ended. And why would we expect it to? It's only mid-March. The past few winters have been warmer than normal, but that certainly doesn't make the winter of 2013-14 colder than normal. It does, however, make me that much more anxious for spring to come - and stay. As if to serve as a reminder that winter is indeed a temporary season, the last week of February brought the first flowers of spring! 

Crocus

Tucked away underneath my Japanese Maple (for some reason) is a tiny clump of tiny Crocus. (I'm calling these straight-up Crocus, since I'm unsure of their exact species or cultivar) A beacon of color among the brown, they're like little purple lollipops in a land without candy. Or something. 

They look straight-up edible, don't they? 

But the first appearance of these closed flowers isn't the whole show. That comes after another day or two of warmth, after which those closed flower buds burst open as if to shout "Happy Spring!" to anyone who happens to walk by. I dare you to look at this next photo without smiling:

Admit it: You're smiling. 

Being one of the earliest flowers to bloom in late winter, you'd be forgiven for worrying that they are damaged by cold or frost. Crocus are more than able to handle a little bit of chill. In addition to being tough little flowers, they belong to a special group of plants in the world that exhibit nyctinasty.

Nyctinasty in action

"Nic-wha?" Nyctinasty. Funny, unpronounceable name, cool feature. See, plants which possess this trait seem to respond to certain environmental stimuli; in this case, the flowers of Crocus will fold up at nighttime and during extreme cold. Nobody really knows why this is, but one of the popular theories is that the plant does this to protect and preserve the pollen for warmer days when pollinating insects are more likely to do their thing and help the plant reproduce. Neat, huh? 

Vital statistics:

Botanical Name: Crocus (70+ different species)
Common Name: Crocus
Native to: Europe, Asia, North Africa, China, others; all depends on the species
Cold Hardy to: Zone 3
Heat Tolerant to: Zone 8-9, guessing (they need about 3 months of cold to initiate flowering) 
Flowers: Showy purple or yellow, blooming either in early spring or autumn depending on species. 

Size: Usually shorter than 4-6". Some remain in small clumps, others can naturalize like a ground cover
Where to buy: Purchase and plant spring-flowering bulbs in the fall; and fall-flowering bulbs in the spring. Keep an eye out for pots of forced Crocus in the houseplant section in early spring. Once those flowers fade it's a great way to snag a lot of bulbs at clearance price!

Plant Crocus near a pathway where it is easy to see despite its diminutive stature. Do not plant underneath cascading trees. It's not smart. (I know. I did it)

Bonus: Saffron? (Crocus sativus)

Picture found at a blog post on All Things Edible

What does Crocus have to do with Saffron? Everything! While it's true that most herbs and spices come from the dried foliage and even bark of certain plants, what would you say if I told you that saffron came from the parts of a Crocus flower? 

http://images.whiteflowerfarm.com/910891a.jpg

Since this is a Crocus that only blooms in the fall, the window to harvest saffron is extremely narrow. To add to it all, saffron must be harvested, processed and separated by hand. These factors contribute to saffron being, as far as I know, the most expensive spice in the world.

For more reading, consult:
General information -
http://www.whiteflowerfarm.com/harvesting-saffron-crocus.html
http://kopiaste.org/2009/11/krokos-kozanis-crocus-or-zafora-greek-saffron-ryzogalo/
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Crocus_sativus

For some pretty cool photos of Crocus fields and manual processing:
http://buypuresaffron.blogspot.com/2010/11/growing-saffron.html

And if you'd like some Crocus sativus to grow and collect your own saffron:

http://www.whiteflowerfarm.com/910891-product.html#

Confessions of a Plant Geek's Wife - #3: Nervous Spring Energy

For all the freedom I enjoy from being the wife of the plant geek, the few weeks before spring generally make me very nervous.  Throughout most of the year, when I'm either not paying attention or busy doing non-planty things, I trust Joe to do what he does best: take care of the plants.  But for these next few weeks, I'll be filled with anticipation and anxiety.

I have a list of favorite flowers, and most of them are springtime bloomers:

• Crocus
• Hyacinth
• Wisteria
• Orchid
• African Daisy 

We've been growing hyacinth for about as long as we've been married, I'm pretty sure.  I've harbored a fondness for these short-lived, fragrant, pastel-colored flower clusters since childhood, when my grandmother had an outdoor planter filled with them.  Their fragrance was unique; it would waft inside through her screen door, and around the front yard as my sister and I played.  Crocus has been a more recent addition to my list.  I don't recall seeing much of them growing up, but over the past several years they have either gained popularity, or I've just been paying more attention.  I love the colors and variation, as well as their compact size.  And naturally, I love that these two habitually return every spring.

Each year, as the season would come to a close for the hyacinth, Joe would divide up the new bulbs and plant them a little distance away from the older ones, ready for the following year to yield even more blooms.  And every year about mid-late February, the waiting begins.  Little green points start pushing their way through the soil, even though winter is nowhere near over.

Those light-green leaves in the center aren't weeds - they're Hyacinth!

Through snow and ice and frost after frost, I nervously anticipate sudden death for our little buddies. (Haha... "bud"dies... get it?)  After all, cold and frost is bad for plants, isn't it?  Aren't we told all our lives to cover up our fragile gardens before a predicted frost?  These little guys are resilient, though, and seemingly unfazed by frigid weather.  Even our recent 6-8" of snow, topped with about an inch or two of ice, and even more snow on top of that didn't break their stride.  A week after the ice all melted off, the flower heads are still pushing their way up.  I'm pretty sure I ask Joe multiple times each year why or if they will survive through everything.

After multiple snows and a quarter-inch of ice, they're still alive. So far. 

And then, to make matters worse, they never all come up at the same time.  Two or three of the hyacinth bulbs (I suspect the original three we started out with) are always the first to emerge, and having no idea how many we actually ended up with last year because Joe does all the bulb separating, I pace and wring my hands up and down the sidewalk in front of the flower beds every time we leave or return home until each and every plant has made it's appearance.  Where did that hole come from?  Have squirrels been eating my hyacinth?  Of course they haven't.  Hyacinth bulbs are poisonous.  Weren't there four right here last year?  Why are they only in these five places?  Something horrible has happened, I just know it.  We must have moles or something... the kind that don't leave hills and tunnels in the yard... oh right... poisonous bulbs.  Every year I worry, and every year almost all of them return on schedule.

"A Hyacinth is never late. Nor is it early. It arrives precisely when it means to!"

Except last year, the crocuses didn't bloom.  The green leaves made their appearance, but the flowers were a no-show.  This year, they are actually the first to bloom!  So I've let out a little sigh of relief and watched as over the past couple of days, one... two... three flowers have appeared.  They made it! :-)  Now I can rest a little easier.  At least until the next wintry mix forecast.  Which, incidentally, happens to be this weekend.