Guest Rant by Kamryn Everett
Two years ago in February, I walked into a local branch of a big box retailer and was taken by surprise when I saw a large display of blooming hydrangeas for sale. The gorgeous blue, pink, and purple plumes of flowers sat glowing in the middle of the sales floor like rays of warm summer light piercing the icy shield of winter’s gloom, beckoning to all impulse buyers alike.
I guess if you wanted to take the time to properly acclimate them to this hemisphere, the price isn’t bad!
Immediately I wondered if someone from logistics had made a mistake and accidentally rerouted the summer blooming shrubs meant for a store in Australia to one here in the northern hemisphere. I thought surely it was a fluke and not something that would happen again. That is until last year when it happened again. And I doubt this year will be any different.
Forcing plants to bloom out of season isn’t anything new. It’s why we can get bouquets of tulips in the fall and roses for Valentine’s day. Not to mention with efficient logistics and trade partnerships we can get pretty much any out-of-season delicacy we desire anytime of the year from anywhere around the world. But while I’ve grown accustomed to year-round cut flowers and citrus, a live summer blooming shrub in the middle of winter is a newer phenomenon that I haven’t quite wrapped my head around and think perhaps it’s best we collectively don’t.
It’s completely immoral what’s been done to these hydrangeas. While there is a disclaimer on the display that says to keep the plants indoors and out of freezing temperatures, hydrangeas are not a plant typically associated with the indoors around here, so more often than not they end up on porches or in the chilled ground as a first attempt to manifest warm weather and mock other flowering plants that are forced to wait for appropriate seasonal cues to foliate and bloom.
I’ve witnessed first-hand the existential crisis that will occur should these hydrangeas survive the remainder of winter and PNW spring. They end up spending the entirety of the growing season trying to figure out who they are and where they’re at. It’s like they have to cope with amnesia and jet lag at the same time. Come midsummer, the flower heads lose their spirit and the leaves that haven’t dropped off turn odd shades of red and purple – ultimately unable to determine if it’s their biology or the cosmos that has betrayed them.
Let’s stick to the tried and true late winter classics.
The injustice doesn’t end there. Consider the unsuspecting patrons desperate for some color, some life. They just want something they can use to resuscitate their front entrances from the death grips of Jack Frost. They don’t have time to read the fine print or think critically. Pansies and primroses are old news. Hellebores and winter heaths are overdone. A big leaf hydrangea should do the trick! And of course because it’s on sale in February then surely that is correct and a clear sign that garden season has begun: groundhog be damned.
Sadly just as the shrub is destined to succumb to an alien climate, an eager would-be gardener will no doubt interpret the withering plant as their own lack of skill and not see it for the retail magic trick that it is.
What is the purpose of being able to purchase blooming hydrangeas in the middle of winter? Is this something people were begging for – or do they decide it’s something they need because it’s there? Whatever the reason, it’s absurd, it’s irritating, and I can only hope people start connecting the dots before more hydrangeas are forced to suffer the consequences of poor merchandizing and purchasing decisions.
Kamryn Everett frequently writes a garden column for the Key Peninsula Newspaper in Washington state.
the big box retailers sell hydrangea now and tomatoes in April in the north because they know they’ll die and you’ll be back to buy another batch in May.
A friend got me a deep purple hydrangea already in bloom as b’day present last March. I nursed it through our drought last summer. Now I’m hoping it survived our very cold last few weeks.
It reminds of being able to buy sweet cherries, peaches or sweet corn in the middle of winter. But we’ve come to expect such things.
Ah, poor hydrangeas. But do they flower longer than a bunch of cut flowers might? And how do they compare in cost?
Bingo! Had it been an arrangement of cut hydrangeas in a bouquet from a florist, the cost would be doubled…and all that pink, right before Valentines Day! We are fools for the instant fix.
Immediate gratification. Impulse purchases. As a retired retailer, we know that “color sells” in any form, regardless of its ability to survive. But, alas, we also know that the thrill is in the purchase and that is what keeps us coming back. Enjoy.
Oh, come on, this is no different than selling poinsettias in December. These are nothing more than cut flowers with roots. Yes, they are woody shrubs and have the potential to becoming permanent residents in the garden but seriously. most consumers consider that a bonus but not the prime reason for their purchase. Think of all the mums that get tossed in the fall or cyclamen or heathers or wintergreen or skimmia. They are all living plants with potential but in reality, are just cut flowers with roots. Don’t over think it.
Agree completely. Why not just enjoy the flowers? Like amyrillis, paperwhites, or poinsettias? Or any forced bulbs for that matter? Anything that makes winter less grey is fine with me.
spot on.
Agree completely Steve. They are a winter romance with roots. If you’ve got the skills, you may just pull them through. Can’t say that about a bunch of tulips. (And the blooms didn’t succumb to deer.) —MW
It’s hard enough waiting sometimes years for these to bloom in the yard but they can not wait through the winter to plant them?
Reminds me how oblivious retailers are to the facts of gardening life. Another example: several years ago I placed an on-line order in May with a garden supplier for some nematodes that could be injected into squash vines to destroy squash vine borers. Silly me! Turns out they had to be injected right away in order to be effective. When I called the retailer to explain that my squash plants had just sprouted and were nowhere near ready for the nematodes, I got someone with a thick East Indian accent who couldn’t understand that in the Northern Hemisphere there is a gardening season.
rather than placing an online order, you might have been better served by going to your local garden center
Local garden centers didn’t carry nematodes, which I wanted to try as a solution to squash vine borers.
Jack, I commend you for experimenting, but usually if the local garden center doesn’t carry a product. It’s because they know you won’t be happy with the results.
Right on
just another example of our throw away society. since it applies to clothing, electronics, produce with blemishes, and on and on why not the gardening world as well? I am wintering in the southwest and have finally stopped being astonished at the plants and flowers sold here which cannot survive the summer. Reminds me of illegal drugs: they wouldn’t sell if there was no demand. Retailers aren’t into ethics, they are into sales.
Sally, as a retired retailer of over 30 years I have to laugh at your comment. Of course, retailers are into sales, that is what keeps them in business. But that does not mean they are unethical. The disposal society we are all currently living in is the direct result of consumer demand for cheap products. It is consumer driven, not retailer driven. If you are troubled by seeing products that are being sold in your area that will not survive the summer, you need to remember that those very products still provided some degree of joy and pleasure for that consumer, and in many cases the ethical retailer that sold those products may have also educated that very consumer of the ephemeral nature of those very products. And to get totally philosophical, the beauty of plants that die is that they are compostable and nonpolluting, so no harm, no foul. So, lighten up on the retailers. No one is forcing you to buy those products, are they.
Ah, squash vine borers! Wait to plant squash until after June 15the and the borers will be finished copulating, and your plants are safe. Now the squash bug/shield bug, that’s a bug of another color!
I enjoyed your writing, but I can’t agree with your position. Plants don’t have feelings, though I am often guilty of talking to them as if they do. If the box store wants to sell gaudy pink hydrangeas out of season, and people want to buy them, I’m alright with that. A grower somewhere in warmer climates needs to make a living, and having blooming things around us in January relieves seasonal depression for some people. That said, if they aren’t doing it already, I think the box stores should put a sticker with care instructions somewhere on the packaging. I would also add Erysimum to your list of cool-season blooms. The new selections are fantastic and can last a few seasons in my Texas garden.