Upon learning that a plant is rare or uncommon, it's easy even for a seasoned gardener to assume: "it must be difficult to grow", and to further assume: "I probably couldn't grow it." Such assumptions are a kind of prejudice. Their conclusions are often wrong.

My case in point of the instant is the legendary Tecophilaea cyanocrocus. For those of you who have never been privileged to grow and bloom your own Tecophilaea or to see one in bloom, let me assure you that all the rave notices you may have heard or read about this little cormous plant with its shocking blue flowers still don't do it justice.

In spite of its size, diminutive when compared with many of the world's bulbous plants, Tecophilaea manages to capture the hearts of bulb collectors who see it, not only with its beauty and dazzling floral display, but with its mystique. It is, after all, no longer known in the wild, alas, having been collected, and perhaps grazed, out of existence—or so the story goes.

Now it is indigenous only to the growing benches and gardens of bulb collectors worldwide. Whether it is rare, uncommon, or even plentiful in these locations I do not know. What I do know is that this lovely plant, sometimes erroneously called by its nickname, the Chilean Blue Crocus (it is not a crocus), has proven fairly easy of cultivation, bloom and even seed setting upon my own growing benches once I learned how to grow it.

My original corms of Tecophilaea were purchased in the early 1970s for the princely sum of $4.50 each. (I have since seen a notice of a bulb auction in which the suggested opening bid for one Tecophilaea corm was $29.00.) 1 bought one corm of each of the varieties available: T. cyanocrocus, T. cyanocrocus var. leichtlinii; and T. cyanocrocus var. violacea. In those days, $4.50 for a corm the size of a green pea was a real budget buster for me. My checking account moaned and berated its fate, especially when it heard about the diminutive dimensions of those corms.

Yet I have never regretted my decision. Not even when those small corms refused to bloom for two years, nor then when one of them produced only one weak, definitely poor-quality flower during its third season. It didn't matter. The leaves themselves were interesting: slightly fleshy and quite short, not at all what I had expected when I planted the corms. And I was awestruck from the moment I set eyes on the flower. I became an instant fan who has championed the species ever since.

The plant grower in me immediately proclaimed success in my mastery over the species when that lone flower produced one lone seed. I had done it! I had successfully grown and bloomed the rare Tecophilaea cyanocrocus and even set a seed on it. On to the next bulb species challenge!!

Ah, youth and its exuberance over small successes. If only we could breeze lightly through the next part of my story. The truth is that the following ten years brought few flowers and only moderate success. That first seed sprouted and quickly died. The original corms grew in increments measured in millimeters. All this amounted to success of a sort, yes. But hardly a success which one could call "resounding".

In the early 1980s I began experimenting with crushed granite sand as a medium for growing bulbs. There were several reasons for this. Among them was the fact that I had read that crushed granite sand contains a high percentage of potassium from 7% to 17% potassium stated one article. As bulbs tend to love potassium, the granite sand sounded like a good candidate for a growing medium.

Other reasons for my wanting to experiment with granite sand were:

1. the fact that a sand and gravel pit is within five miles of my home, so I can purchase quantities of the stuff comparatively inexpensively;
2. my conclusion that organics (peat moss, bark, organic soil mixes) had been causing the death of increasing numbers of my bulbs when white salt crusts from irrigation water concentrated on the organics, presenting increasingly dangerous levels of salts in contact with the bulbs as soil dried out for summer dormancy;
3. the ease of simply pouring sand into a pot, plunking the bulbs in, and fertilizing when necessary; and
4. granite sand straight from the sack is fairly free of disease organisms, so sterilization before planting bulbs or seeds is usually unnecessary. (If you try this method of growing bulbs, stuff some fiberglass house insulation into the drainage holes in the pots to prevent the sand from leaking out. Here in the United States, house insulation is pink or creamy yellow in color, cottony, holds up well and certainly prevents the sand from escaping through the holes. Note: wear a mask while you're handling the insulation; once in your lungs, the fibers can make you cough for hours afterwards. Further note: some people have skin sensitive to this insulation, so please wear gloves.

For the most part, the granite sand helped me to grow my bulbs wonderfully, so within three years most of my winter growing bulb collection had been transplanted into this all-granite sand growing medium. A top dressing of organic soil mix consisting primarily of finely chipped bark and peat seems to help the plants grow better. This topdressing is scraped off - along with any weed seeds - and replaced on a yearly basis.

While I am pleased with granite sand as a planting medium for most winter-growing bulbous species, granite sand doesn't work well for all species. It seems to be a bit too neutral or perhaps a bit on the alkaline side at first for those bulbs which want a slightly acidic growing medium. A silica sand/granite sand combination works better for these species. In extreme cases where the bulbs were obviously suffering, I simply went back to a peat moss or a bark-chip commercial soil mixture mixed in with the sand and replaced periodically through reporting.

The Tecophilaea thrived in the crushed granite sand. They grew even better when I began fertilizing them four times each winter growing season with a fertilizer mix of potassium sulfate, potassium nitrate, super-phosphate and a small amount of magnesium sulfate (Epsom salts available in any super-market or pharmacy) and a bit of chelated iron. Sometimes when I have some available, I splurge and give all my growing bulbs a bit of chelated trace minerals as well, or maybe a shot of calcium nitrate. But I find the crushed granite sand seems to have plenty of trace minerals in it for most bulb species most of the time.

If you were to ask me what proportions I use in my fertilizer mixture, I'd be at a loss. Like cooks who have been cooking for a long time, I just mix up a batch from time to time and feed often - four or five times during a growing season - but sparingly.

The corms of Tecophilaea reproduce slowly. They do reproduce, however, and in time the cormlets tend to form small colonies around the mother corm. These should be separated and planted elsewhere during dormancy every three years or so.

Surprisingly, my Tecophilaea corms produce copious quantities of seeds. From my small group of corms, using hand pollination with a camel's hair brush — several times for each flower the plants produced 180+ seeds last year (winter of 1993/1994), up from 150+ the year before. The seeds are round and about the size of a small Ferraria seed or a large freesia seed.

But getting plants to produce seeds was an easy task compared with getting seeds to germinate. I labored for years with this problem, faithfully planting seeds in the granite sand in which their parents grew so well. Yet their germination rate remained oppressively low: one, two, or three seeds per every forty planted. Not good!

Then serendipity took center stage. I had given some Tecophilaea seeds to my friend, Charles Gorenstein, who planted them and several months later casually mentioned to me that every one of his seeds had germinated and were growing.

"What did you plant them in?", questioned 1.

"Supersoil", answered he.

Eureka!

In October 1994, 1 planted my own Tecophilaea seeds in Supersoil. Now, January 7, 1995 one pot of 40 has fourteen seeds germinating, while in another pot of 40, ten seeds are germinating. The Supersoil sack lists its pH as 5.5 to 6.5, mildly acidic. [Ed. Note: Supersoil-,- is made from ground bark and has some sand added. It is a very porous mix.]

Could the acid level of the Supersoil be the clue? Probably.

My guess is that crushed granite sand, while it's fine for growing the corms, simply isn't sufficiently acidic to germinate the seeds well.

Bulb species are just full of surprises, aren't they?

I would encourage anyone to try their hand at a few Tecophilaea seeds. They have been available through the International Bulb Society seed exchange list from time to time. I hope we can continue to produce them in sufficient quantities to list them every year. (No seeds from my plants will be available for the 1995 seed list ... see "Further update" below.) In spite of the rare or at least uncommon status of this plant, it is not difficult to grow. In climates colder than Southern California I suspect a cold frame or cool greenhouse would be in order.

Once you grow Tecophilaea, you'll look forward to seeing it bloom each year. In time, you too may wish to contribute corms or seeds toward the effort to re-establish it in the wilds of Chile.

In the meantime, I hope you may enjoy good growing of one of Nature's living jewels.

Update: final count of germinated seeds in pots mentioned above were 27 germinated seeds out of a first group of 40 seeds planted; 16 germinated seeds out of a second group of 40 planted.

Analysis: Tecophilaea seed germination was not spectacular when planted in Supersoil, but still far better than when planted. in straight granite sand. In addition, there is a good chance that even more seeds will germinate next year in the same pots; one or two seeds per forty planted often retain their viability through the summer after planting and germinate for me in the second year even when planted in the original granite sand medium.

Further update: for reasons best known to the tecophilaeas themselves, only one flower bloomed for me during the winter of 1994/1995. The corms had a hard time getting started and grew slowly until winter was well under way. Then the leaves grew robustly and the plants ended the season looking very good. I expect to have many more flowers during the 1995/1996 winter.

Further analysis: the tecophilaeas may have decided not to bloom well during the winter of 1994/1995 as a result of the wisdom behind the old folk saying "Good tomatoes, poor cucumbers this year ... last year it was the reverse", the message of which seasoned gardeners the world over carry in their hearts: Some species and some varieties just do not grow well during certain years.

While Southern Califonia's climate is usually wonderful, the weather itself is often bizarre. October of 1994 was hot, followed by an unusually cold November with many nights of frost (down to 22°F two nights in my bulb growing area). A cold November was followed by an unusually warm, dry December. January was warm and rainy. February was warm, then hot and unusually dry throughout. March was stormy, rainy and cold, then sunny and warm, then hot. Is it any wonder many plants were confused?

Although the '94-'95 winter rainfall turned out to be especially plentiful, some species of bulbs, such as the tecophilaeas, performed poorly. Their poor performance was probably a result of the wildly fluctuating, and often reversed, temperature patterns: cold to cool when it should have been warm, and vice versa. Other winter growing species thrived in this strange weather and grew, bloomed and set seed beautifully.

Conclusions: Tecophilaea is easier to grow and bloom and even to set seed upon - during most years - than its scarcity implies. As with all plants, each grower can profit from the wisdom of other growers, but ultimately each grower must discover what makes these cormous plants grow best under his or her own conditions.