One might say we were blessed by an incredible crop of sunflowers this season. They self-seeded throughout the farm; a result of the goldfinches’ messy eating last year. The combination of rain and heat early in the summer helped them grow at least 15 feet tall. They made hundreds of beautiful blooms and seeds for the chickens, along with this year’s wild visitors.
One might also say we were overrun by sunflowers this season. The volunteers we allowed to stay shaded out other crops, hoarded water and nutrients, and are gonna take a ton of time and muscle to recycle.
Holding these two truths at once is a gardener’s version of the cognitive dissonance many of us are all feeling these days in lots of parts of our lives. A friend posted a funny/not funny stream of consciousness from a parent juggling the mundane tasks of keeping the home fires burning while absorbing the barrage of previously unfathomable news coming out of Washington. I am heartbroken over the famine in Gaza and the plight of the hostages still held there by Hamas (alive and dead). I could go on, but you came here to read about flowers, not politics.
The lesson I want to record is one about making choices.
In the spring when everything is emerging it’s exciting to find volunteers popping up. Plants born of their own design tend to be hardier than those grown from seeds. Their will to live is unstoppable. It’s hard not to see them as gifts from Mother Nature. And yet, if you have other plans for the space, you have to make some sacrifices. Literally.
Some gardeners find this really hard to do. We ask: How can I, someone who dedicates so much time and energy to helping things grow commit planticide?! How can I take the life of an innocent seedling who just happened to pop up in what I consider the “wrong” place?
I transplant volunteers when I can, and have even rescued some from off-site locations. But in the end, our space is limited. We have to make choices. This season, I made some bad choices with regard to the sunflowers. They cost us a lot of productivity, but they taught me a valuable lesson I will carry into next year.
We’re fortunate to have space beyond the farm to grow flowers and let things get a bit wild. The space we’ve dedicated to this agricultural project, however, needs to be a bit more controlled in order to operate at its best. That’s what agriculture is after all, human-assisted growing. In hindsight, and if I’m being honest, I’ve had issues with other companion planting experiments as well. It’s another beautiful concept (like letting chickens forage freely to help control pests or allowing wildlife to graze rather than fighting with nature) that just doesn’t seem to be playing out for me in practice. It’s just hard to get the combination right – both for the sake of the plants themselves, and for ease of care and harvest.
So, next year, we’ll be more aggressive in culling guests from the beds. And we’ll be back to report the results.
With thanks to Katey and Nancy (my ongoing farming companions) Celia Kahle from Firefly Garden Design, and Todd Schriver of Rock Dove Farm for talking these ideas through with me.
