7 bulbs for an easy, mind-blowing spring garden

Yes! Getting that fluffy, sunshine-y spring-tastic look is possible, even without the East Coast winter chill.

You just gotta know a guy.

And I’m the guy! I can help you!

I’ve blown the cash and had all the failures so you don’t have to.

I’ve grown all of the following recommendations in my garden, in a variety of settings, seen some thrive and seen some fail, right here in Soquel, CA Zone 9 (yes, yes, technically we’re Sunset Zone 17 but that’s an article for another day). Likewise, these aren’t all ‘bulbs’ - some are rhizomes, some are corms, some are fleshy-rooted-rhizomatous organisms. Let’s just agree to call them ‘bulb-like’ and move on.

Okay! Voila! Here are my recommendations.

Native Iris

Snuggle up to some Douglas iris (Iris douglasiana) or Pacific Coast Hybrids (PCH). These little fellers were born and raised right here in our briar patch. Here they thrive, no additional water needed in the summertime. These iris are highly variable, meaning that they hybridize amongst themselves and might not come true to color each and every time. Most of them are various shades of blue and purple, but if you hunt around you can find yellow, cinnamon, pink, or even snow-white varieties. 

If you decide you want not-purple flowers, buy those locally when they are in bloom and you can see the color in person. I once fell victim to Iris douglasiana ‘PB&J’ from Annie’s Annuals. They had one delicious season, and then they never came back.

The straight species can sort of spread and widen out and become hollow in the middle, but the PCH version stays more reliably clumped. You can divide these, but timing is everything. Deep in the heart of winter is the best time, preferably when it’s raining buckets. Put on your slicker and mud boots, dig ‘em up, chop the clumps in half or quarters by jumping up and down on a shovel, quickly replant, and cross your fingers that you didn’t kill the entire thing. Be brave!

These are so pretty, so California-y, and so very easy to find in a local garden center. They look really lovely when planted near the delicate little bells of  Heuchera maxima ‘Island Alum Root’ which blooms at roughly the same time. 

Native Brodiaea

‘Queen Fabiola’ is the go-to here. Native to the West Coast, those deep winter chills in other parts of the world will kill it dead in the face. But here? Well! So charming, so interesting, so wild-flower-y. Queen Fabiola puts up grass-like leaves in the early spring, and then the flowers themselves follow later in the year, in the form of little purple-blue flaring bells.

That’s what it looks like in my garden right now. When it flowers I’ll add a pic so you can see what that looks like.

You can see how cool these would look in a meadow setting. Who has the room for a meadow, though, right? Try tucking them here and there and see what happens.

These are growing along the side of my house, and they’ve spread themselves around in the most interesting hands-off way. The nearby red maples have grown a lot since I planted them, and they do need some sun to flower well. Let’s see how they do this year.

Freesia

Oh, my. These little darlings are really my favorite, and fully deserving of being revered by Roseville pottery designers of yore. 

Freesias are native to South Africa and they totally dig Zone 9. They come in the form of tiny little bulbs called ‘corms’, and you can find the species at about 10 for 10 dollars at local garden centers. You can pay more online and get hybrids that are larger and in different colors, but I tend to go for traditional and reliable—and cheap. Plus, these perennialize and spread like nobody’s business, so in a few years you can dig and divide and have these all over your yard if you want. A yard full of freesias for $10? Sign me up.

Look at this nice little informal clump of flowers. And the scent! Oh my. These little flower clusters release an intoxicating fresh tropical aroma, sweet and spicy and languid all at once. I mean, put-a-hydrangea-behind-my-ear-and-transport-me-to-another-place-and-time gorgeous. I have a few tucked near the front of a bed at the foot of Ceanothus Wheeler Canyon. The creamy white/yellow looks oh-so-pretty next to the early-blooming Wheeler Canyon, and the two scents blend really well together. They look great near a clump of Island Verbena ‘de la Mina,’ too. 

’But, but…’ I hear you cry

I know, I know. Those humble little flowers are all well and good, but you want something more showy and typically springlike, amirite?

Daffodils! You need daffodils!

Here ya go!

Gigantic Star

Yowzah! Excuse the crummy pics, I’ll add better ones when I figure out my new camera. This gal deserves better, because she is bold, yellow, huge, and just screams springtime at the top of her lungs. Plus, it’s just fun to say ‘Gigantic Star’. If you want a classic easy yellow, this one is it.

Gigantic Star has come back in my yard for 5 springs running, although it doesn’t seem to multiply like some bulbs. It’s fierce, though. I’ve got one that’s battled its way through the cement in a path that was put in on top of it during the late fall. Impressive.

Daffodil Barrett Browning

Look at that happy face! This is one of the first to bloom in my garden, and does it ever light up a gray day. I just love those wide creamy white petals with that super happy orangey-yellow cup. This one is just too cool — as the flowers open, the petals start out a soft peach, and then gradually turn into that sparkling white over a few days. 

Barret Browning has come back year after year for me. I started out with a few test bulbs that I tucked here and there in a quiet corner or two, and then eventually bought a ton of them to plant against a fence. Wall-to-wall happiness in late February.

Daffodil Pink Charm

Aww…so sweet! Yes, I confess, even though I get my groove on in muddy jeans and waffled hiking boots, I just loves me some girly pretty soft pinkness. Bring on the Waterford crystal and grandmother’s china, these lovelies look stunning in a cut-glass vase in the middle of your spring tea party table. 

As you can see, the ‘pink’ cup is really more of a peachy-pink blushy color, and it’s not everyone’s cup of tea. This bulb is super easy, though. I put a clump on either side of a little stone bench near an oak tree, just to see how they would do with no summer water and filtered shade, and boy howdy. They delivered, big time.

They look good from the back, too.

Pink Charm multiplies, but slowly, so it may take a while to build up that precious divide-and-replant supply. They have come back for me again and again, and they’re just as delightful each time. Plant them near some California early bloomers like Ceanothus, Island Alum Root, or Verbena de la Mina. Pour some Earl Grey into a paper-thin Wedgewood cup and sit close enough to admire the effect.

Daffodil Thalia

Now here’s a winged beauty and no mistake. Thalia is a crystal-white daffodil with a lovely champagne-glass fluted cup and slender petals that fan out like a seagull’s wing. There’s something really heart-lifting about Thalia. Easy, reliable, and multiplies really well year over year. If you are a digger-and-divider, these are for you.

Plus, tough as nails, holy smokes! I just found a pot full of Thalia bulbs that had fallen off the porch and was laying on its side, wedged between some big plastic pots and the railing. And it was blooming! Game little Thalia bravely put out her leaves, found her way upright, and was blooming there in the neglect and the shadows, forlorn and forgotten. What a fighter!

Final thoughts

Have fun with these! Buy a few of a lot, buy a lot of a few, put them in stately beds and rows, dig a big wide hole and throw some in, tuck a few here and there, and then put the leftovers in a pot. Experiment! Go nuts! Ignore everything I just said and get some parrot tulips! Just start happy and finish rejoicing, whatever the outcome.

Go get ‘em, Tiger!