Greedy for more for plants for new areas of the garden, I divided colchicum, montbretia, and peonies. Greed is an acceptable sin in a gardener.

Colchicums are pricy, but they are worth every penny. They pay out yearly dividends in flowers and they are critter proof. They should be on everyone’s must have list. Their large corms multiply quickly and each sends up clusters of blooms continuing for weeks. Their nickname, autumn crocus is deceiving. They are not crocus at all, although the flowers are similar.

It is also easy to confuse colchicum with daffodils in the spring. Their foliage grows larger, looking like daffodils on steroids. It appears and disappears with the daffodils, although unlike the daffs, they don’t bloom until fall. Then they bloom naked without foliage.

I grow three different varieties of colchicum, ‘Lilac Wonder’, with clusters of single purple blooms 8-inches tall, ‘The Giant’, with clusters of slightly larger single blooms and ‘Water lily’ with clusters of double purple blooms.

The process to divide them is simple. After the corms have bloomed, I dig up a clump with a spading fork and gently remove the corms, tiny roots and all, from the mother. I could have done this in late spring too after the foliage died back.

Corms seek their own level. They are often found deeper than I remember planting them. And rightly so, I heap compost on them each fall to nourish them. They also have the ability to move up or down, pulled by their roots, if necessary.

Montbretia (Crocosmia x crocosmiiflora) are among the last summer bulbs to bloom. They send up 2- to 4-foot spikes lined with six-petal, star-shaped flowers in hot colors ranging from yellow to orange to scarlet. Their long, sword-shaped leaves need their own space but their slim hips slip easily between other summer bloomers. 

When I dug up a clump this fall, I was surprised to find clusters of bulbs attached together like pop beads with each cluster only sending up a few flowering stems. Once I broke them apart and replanted them, two inches deep and three inches apart, each bulb has to pull its own weight and send up its own blooms.

Peonies are lifted in the same way, with a spading fork. After they are lifted and rinsed with water, it is easy to count the white or red eyes, pointing up from the roots. I cut the roots apart leaving between 3 and 5 eyes on each division. Then I replant them with an inch and a half of soil over the eyes. The foliage can be cut to the ground.

Once the replanting was done, I began dreaming about next year’s numerous flowers. That’s what gardening is about—a spade, a root, a hope and a dream.