The Iconic Tulip
Did you know tulips are just a one-year wonder? Yep, totally and completely crap in their second year and best treated simply as annuals. In spring they sweep in, look just so fabulous for a moment, and then refuse to perform again, it’s a case of love me now, then it’s see you later baby, I’m not ever coming back.
I discovered this little nugget of truth by accident whilst researching for the establishment of a grand tulip festival at the future Armidale Botanic Garden. But honestly, I am very happy that I now know this little gem of information for it provides me with some measure of solace. I have always thought I was a downright dead total failure with growing them. Forever bitterly disappointed by the second year’s season, flowers of complete underperformance, and that is an understatement. Blooms small, mishappen, gnarled and twisted, and simply just downright super ugly. Akin to a crazy genetic mutation after the destructive fallout from a nuclear bomb.
Tulips evolved in climates with freezing winters and long, long cold springs. Armidale, (in the New England where I live), gives them a good start, but not the deep chill they need to store enough energy for an encore performance. By year two, the exhausted bulb simply can’t deliver the same show.
In display gardens they are dug up after their short flowering season and either bought dirt cheap by the public or thrown into the compost. Yes, every single year. And then they plant anew. You may well think what a total waste. Well, more to that later.
History
The cultivation of tulips has a long and interestingly chequered history. It is a flower of Oriental origin and in the Middle East it has been cultivated for a thousand years. In Persia it grew wild and was a symbol of true love. According to an ancient Persian legend the first tulips sprang from the drops of bloodshed from a lover.
Most people have heard of Tulipomania, the extraordinary speculative craze that swept through parts of Europe between 1634 and 1637, reaching its most famous and feverish heights in Holland. The bulbs became a type of currency, or articles of exchange, their value varying day to day and quoted like stocks and shares. At this time as an example, a single tulip bulb was bought by a Dutchman who paid thirty six bushels of wheat, seventy of rice, four oxen, twelve sheep, eight pigs, two barrels of wine and four of beer, two tons of butter, a thousand pounds of cheese, a bed, clothes and a silver cup. Yep, for just a single bulb. It’s a wonder that he didn’t throw in a couple of his children as well just to seal the deal.
So why they are just crap in their second year?
1. The mother bulb is “spent” after flowering
Tulips put enormous energy into producing a large, high‑quality flower. After blooming, the bulb must rebuild its reserves through photosynthesis in the leaves. This regeneration phase lasts 6–8 weeks, during which the bulb forms next year’s flower embryo and produces offsets. But in garden conditions—especially warm climates like much of Australia—the bulb often to rebuild to flowering size.
2. The bulb divides into smaller offsets
After flowering, the mother bulb produces daughter bulbs (offsets) around its base. These offsets are much smaller and typically won’t flower until they reach ~10 cm circumference, which can take 1–2 years of growth. The mother bulb itself often shrinks or dies after producing offsets.
3. Warm climates reduce perennial performance
Tulips need 12–16 weeks of cold (2–7°C) to reset for flowering. In climates where soil temperatures rise above 21°C, flowering declines rapidly and bulbs fade after a few years even in ideal conditions
4. Disease and rot accumulate in the second year
Tulips are highly susceptible to fungal diseases such as Botrytis (Tulip Fire) and Fusarium bulb rot, which build up in soil over time and weaken bulbs in subsequent seasons.
5. Energy is often lost to seed production
If spent flowers are not removed, the plant diverts energy into seed formation instead of bulb rebuilding. This weakens the bulb and reduces its ability to flower again.
So then how do bulb wholesalers create every year, their vast new range for the retail market?
Commercial bulb production is a multi‑year, highly controlled agricultural process designed to maximise bulb size and health.
1. Propagation is clonal—via offsets, not seeds
Commercial tulip production begins with clonal propagation using offsets (daughter bulbs) that form beside the parent bulb. These are planted in autumn to develop roots before winter.
2. Growers deliberately prevent flowering (“topping”)
To maximise bulb size, growers remove the flower head immediately after bloom—before seeds form. This forces all photosynthetic energy back into the bulb, swelling it to market size.
3. Bulbs are grown in dense, fertile, perfectly drained fields
High planting density encourages competition, which stimulates the formation of more offsets. Fields are carefully managed to avoid moisture‑related diseases and to promote rapid bulb enlargement.
4. Multi‑year growing cycle
A typical commercial cycle:
Year 1:
Plant small offsets
Remove flowers
Allow foliage to mature and feed the bulb
Harvest and grade bulbs
Year 2–3:
Replant the largest bulbs
Repeat topping and foliage management
Harvest bulbs once they reach saleable size
5. Post‑harvest curing and storage
Bulbs are cleaned, inspected, and cured at 25°C to dry the outer skin and prevent disease. They are then stored under controlled temperature and humidity until shipment.
6. Chilling for retail markets
Bulbs are prechilled for 12–16 weeks before sale to ensure they flower reliably the first year. That is in the refrigerator not in the freezer.
Thus, for a guaranteed glorious and gorgeous display each and every year, you must replant them. I am very envious of those great photos in magazines and the internet displaying jaw dropping grand expanses of tulips. Well now we know, its big money and a truckload of it. Good for them. So, unless you have the time and the great patience of wholesale tulip growing methods, it is the annual planting for majority of us.
Which ever way you choose to go, best of luck and happy gardening,
Ned McDowell