Lesley Moseley's Blue Poppy

Meconopsis Blues

The first time I’d ever seen, or even heard of Himalayan Blue Poppy was a number of years ago when I attended a flower photography workshop at the UBC botanical gardens. The instructor told us one was in bloom and we really needed to see it.
I was instantly smitten by its delicate loveliness!

One of the first things I did after we’d moved to Powell River was to go to Mother Nature to buy blue poppy seeds. “We don’t have seeds, but we do have bulbs” I was told. Bulbs? Well, this was five years ago, Year One of the great Blue Poppy challenge and my gardening knowledge in general was minimal to say the least. I knew nothing about these exotic flowers so I bought a packet of the bulbs and planted them in pots in my greenhouse. I watched them closely as they started to grow. When they bloomed I discovered they were actually a variety of anemone called Blue Poppy. Beautiful, but no cigar.

My Year Two attempt involved ordering a packet of Meconopsis (hey I was learnings some Latin!) from West Coast Seeds. I built a fancy framework on a bench under a window in my shop to support grow lights and a heat mat and planted the seeds in trays. Then I surrounded the whole thing with plastic to keep them warm. I bought Bill Terry’s wonderful book Blue Heaven to use as a resource. I planted the seeds March 29, right at the end of his recommended planting dates. All 25 seeds germinated! But then that was pretty much the beginning of the end. The plants stayed tiny. I eventually repotted survivors into 4” pots and spent a lot of time moving them around the garden to areas where they would be protected from wind and too much sun. I welded together a hideous-looking metal contraption that would hold a hose fitted with a mister nozzle and misted them over the course of the summer. But one by one they all gave up, probably traumatized by their treatment. By August they’d all gone to Blue Poppy Heaven.
 
I did a lot of internet research into Fall and decided to order some seeds from England. I accidentally ordered two packets of seeds instead of one, and because I ordered two I got another packet for free. So in Year Three’s Spring, this time in early February, I planted all 75.  They all germinated and actually started to grow! Some of the little plants looked promising enough to maybe, later, actually get transplanted into the ground. I spent many sleepless nights wondering where to create their new home.   I figured out the best place to plant them would be where they’d be shaded by a couple of rhododendron bushes. After all, weren’t their family all from the same original location in the Himalayan region?  There was also an Ozmanthus that would protect them from wind as well. So, as directed, I dug a bed 2 foot deep and filled it with a couple bags of the recommended Pro Mix. Of the original 75 plants, only 12 survived my overly protective but blundering parent care. I had forgotten the recommended fertilizing! I planted them out and carefully surrounded each one with copper strips I’d cut to protect them from slugs. Then I surrounded the bed with oyster shells to further ward off would-be predators. Set up the mister on a timer so they’d get misted every afternoon for a couple hours. No blooms formed, but they lived until Fall before dying down. I covered the bed with glass to keep them dry over the winter (a trick I’d learned over the internet). And waited to see what would happen.

In March, Year Four, after a long and unusually cold winter, tiny fuzzy leaf tips emerged! Magic!! Seven poppies survived the winter! To celebrate, I cleared the weeds from behind their bed and placed some rocks and a Buddha statue so they’d feel even more at home and maybe bloom this year. I didn’t start any new seeds. They grew steadily through the summer and I patiently waited for buds to appear but to my dismay, none did. I talked to them, praised and encouraged them, spoilt them rotten but no go. Maybe I should have hung a set of those little Nepalese flags over them after all. Lin Morrison dropped by and told me they probably needed more sunlight and suggested pruning the bushes to let in more light. I learned that my interpretation of dappled light as being shade mixed with even darker shade wasn’t going to cut it. Fall came. The plants died down and again I covered them with glass.

In February of this year, Year Five, I pruned the Ozmanthus and it looked like it was dancing with joy. In March, fuzzy tips appeared again, this time only five, over the course of a few weeks. I gently weeded and added more of their favourite soil mix and fed them with some Flower Power. I watered them and held my breath. A couple grew quickly this time, obviously relishing the sunlight and looking much hardier and robust. But now another threat loomed. Not just slugs now, but our recently adopted chickens necessitated a barricade of metal fencing and an old screen door for a roof. I considered arming the Buddha.

And then, on May 5 the most amazing thing happened—a bud started to form!

And on Mother’s Day a second one! The first one bloomed a couple days ago—breathtakingly, otherworldly blue

and I accidentally decapitated it trying to maneuver around the fencing to get a picture! Cutting it gave me the opportunity to photograph it around the garden in all different lighting. The second one is on a taller, stronger plant so will be a bigger bloom so all is not lost.

2nd bloom

And it looks like there might be one or two more as well! I’m planning to collect the seeds, leave some on the soil and start others next Spring. 

I learned a lot about gardening in the process of growing these poppies: soil conditions, weather, when and where to plant, proper feeding and lighting.  Above all though, the sheer joy of success!

Lesley Moseley