Gina Daggett

A few weeks ago, I heard the first apple fall off the tree outside my bedroom window; it hit the ground with a rounded thuomp. As I lay in bed, I could feel the distant, but impending bite in the air, signaling the trees before humans that a new season was blowing in.

Even before I noticed the sun's shifted shadow, or the date on the calendar, or the school supplies at the market replaced by Halloween pumpkins, I knew. Just like an animal before an earthquake, my skin knew fall was on the way, pushing into the Willamette Valley, and with one last breath, shutting down life for the winter.

But before she takes her final breath and before you rake your first pile of leaves, there's still time to trap some sunshine for the winter: plant spring flowering bulbs in the ground. The bulbs planted before the first freeze will chill — a cold dormancy required before spring bulbs bloom — through winter and be ready to blossom in the early spring.

Bulbs, a fall staple and bunkered flower factory, are arriving now; even as you read this inaugural Portland Monthly, and the ring of coffee bleeds onto your New Yorker, bulbs are pulling into Portland. And just like bulbs find their way to the dirt's surface in the early spring, the latest and greatest bulbs of the season find their way to local nurseries. Truckload-after-truckload, tulips, daffodils, hyacinth and other bulbs, are piling up, ready and eager, to be buried and nurtured in the rich Oregon soil.

Northwest Factories

Because Portland falls into the USDA's hardiness zone 8b, we have lots of bulbs to choose from. Of the deep-rooted Portland bulbs — crocus, daffodils, grape hyacinth, hyacinth, scilla, tulips and other minor bulbs — you're also sure to find countless varieties of each. Most of these perennial bulbs, or bulbs that return for at least three years, will delight your garden year-after-year, even spreading like the Spanish Bluebells, which I prefer to call shoo-bells because of their insatiable need to reproduce themselves like Gremlins doused with water.

I love the way my backyard looks for about two weeks in the spring when the Bluebells bloom, their stem hardy and at attention. I perfectly time having company over to grill out, christening the backyard in our sweaters and ski caps, then keeping the area off-limits as the shoo-bells promptly cower and fall to the ground, leaving nothing but green mishmash and disaster.

The tulip is the most difficult northwest perennial to charm into a long-term relationship. After two or three years of bloom, they'll wane, and then eventually cross their arms and say, "No more tulips for you." Master gardeners blame their cowardice on their dislike of the North American climate; they fancy the Mountains of Asia, where they have a wet, cool spring followed by hot, dry summers. The sporadic heat we get, when road rage is elevated and clerks chuckle as they say, "We're out of air conditioning units for the season," is just not enough to coax the tulips to hang their hat in your garden. Most gardeners replant tulips each year.

This Year's Hot Bulbs

Each season, bulb enthusiasts make special room in their gardens for the hottest new bulbs; new varieties (many of which are raised in Holland) arrive with a splash of color onto the gardening scene and disappear quickly. With names like Tulip Blueberry Ripple, Muscari Mount Hood and the Isabella Double Hyacinth, how could this year's trendiest bulbs not get scooped up?

The Tulip Blueberry Ripple, in line with its colorful name, takes the air of a tulip to a new level. This white tulip is singed with purple flames that burn up its cupped body like a cool rider on a blazing motorcycle. Blooming in between April and May, this tulip is sure to stop sprinting runners and dusty ice cream trucks circling the block.

For obvious reasons, the Muscari Mouth Hood is sure to be a hit this fall in Portland. Suzy Hancock, the General Manager at Portland Nursery, said she was especially looking forward to the arrival of the Muscari Mount Hood, which, like our towering city milieu, is an enchanting two-toned spike. The distinguishing differences: the Muscari is sky blue with a white topping, blooming long into the spring season; Mount Hood is a napping, snow-spotted volcano. Although Mount Hood hasn't erupted since 1907, scientists believe its due to blow in the next seventy-five years, so the time to plant bulbs is now, as is the time to get snow skiing out of your system.

The Isabella Double Hyacinth, like other grape hyacinths, not only has a rich periwinkle bloom, but also an opulent fragrance that's compared to the fruitful berries that not only give the variety its name, but also delicious harvests of wine. Hardy and easy to grow, Isabella will poke through your soil just in time for the April showers.

Green Nuggets

I could fill this whole magazine with planting tips, but instead, I'll encourage you to read the specific planting instructions for each bulb — sun requirements, depth of hole, how thirsty it is, how far apart to plant them — and weed out my favorite nuggets.

Which end is up? The tapered end of the bulb is the top and should be planted accordingly. If you come across an irregular shaped bulb, plant it sideways; their sprouts will find the sun. After you plant your little bulbs, either in a row, a cluster or, like a manuscript in the wind, scattered everywhere, give them a deep drink before going inside. Because we're lucky enough to live in the Willamette Valley, the skies should take care of the rest of the watering. Also, don't scoff at your deciduous trees or their offering as you rake this year, instead, rake up a large pile for composting; decomposed foliage is an invaluable soil enhancer.

Cyber Bulbs

I'm the first person to get in the car when we go to the nursery. I could look through bulbs for hours at Portland Nursery, tossing them around, inspecting their skin for damage, fraternizing with other greenfingers, swapping tips and sipping coffee. I love the nursery experience. Yet, I offer a thoughtful caveat to fall bulb gardeners.

Bulbs disappear quickly from garden centers, making an early pilgrimage for gardeners necessary. Oftentimes, the rush to get the good bulbs causes gardeners to come home with bulbs that aren't ready to be planted yet. When this happens, they must be stored in a dark, cool, dry place that's well ventilated. To avoid the delicate storage, many online sources and catalogs will ship the bulbs directly to you at the ideal time for planting.

So, as I lie in bed waiting for the last apple to fall, I'll be daydreaming of Blueberry Ripples and their flames of sunshine, or I'll be imagining a Muscari Mount Hood and our mountain in the distance with its first dusting of snow. And I'll know, just like I know a good bottle of wine, that fall is finally upon us.

Published in Portland Monthly, October 2003.