The death of a flower leads to new life. Nature is beautifully cyclical like that.

The stages of a flower can be boiled down to this: it buds, it blooms, it sets seed, and it dies.

When a flower creates seeds, it lays the groundwork for future generations—and ensures the survival of its species. Miraculous—don’t you think?

When we collect and save seeds to plant in our own gardens or share with others—we become stewards of this wondrous legacy.

If it has a flower, it has a seed

Most flowering plants produce seeds—including annuals, perennials and biennials.

Some are more prolific seed producers than others, and are easier to collect from.

It’s also helpful to know which flowers are easiest to start from seed, so your efforts aren’t in vain.

Most annuals fall into this category. When you plant an annual seed in the spring, it will bloom that same year, then die.

Some perennials are easy to start from seed, though they will take longer to establish than annuals—many blooming in year two.

If you’re unsure if a particular flower is easy to start from seed, peruse seed sites to see what plants they offer. There’s a reason you’ll find delphinium seeds readily available, but will be hard-pressed to find rose seeds.

Wildcard

Many seeds that you collect will generate plants with variations from their parent plant—i.e., not exact copies of their parents.

The exceptions are heirloom or open-pollinated varieties, which will produce seeds that grow into clones of their parents.

Distinguishing between them usually requires research, but I’m happy with the end result either way—so I skip that step.

Timing is everything

If left untouched, each flower head will brown and go to seed as soon as it's done blooming. That could be two days or two weeks after it first opens up, depending on the flower.

We usually deadhead to keep the plant from going to seed, because it encourages a longer bloom period and more flowers.

But as we reach August, I start letting some of my annuals go to seed, so I can begin the seed collection.

In my garden, poppies and pansies are the first annual seeds I collect.

Perennial seeds can be collected once the plant’s bloom time has well passed, which will vary depending on the plant.

I usually wait until August for any seed saving, including perennials—my spring-blooming columbines are on deck this week—but that’s only because my mind doesn’t switch to seed-saving mode until late summer.

The harvest

When the flower dies and goes to seed, the petals will usually drop and a seed pod will form. That’s what we’re after.

The best time to collect seeds is on a sunny, dry day.

The flower head, or what’s left of it, will look dead as a doornail. It’s often easiest when the stem itself has started to brown as well.

1. Cut off the seed pods and place them on a tray or in a bag

2. Rub your finger against the pod (in the case of flowers with large centers like cosmos or coneflowers), or crinkle the pod (for flowers with smaller pods like larkspur or foxgloves). Do so over a white piece of paper so you can see where your seeds fall.

3. Use your paper to funnel the seeds into an envelope or air-tight container (ziplock bags, can cause seeds to spoil if they are not fully dried out)

4. Label the envelope, and store in a dark, dry place.

5. In the spring, plant your seeds. You can start them early indoors and plant outdoors as saplings, or plant directly in the ground.

When collecting seeds from fruit and veg, the process is similar, except you’ll be gathering seeds from ripe fruit as opposed to dried seed pods. In this case, leave the seeds on a paper towel to dry out for 24 hours before storing them.

Once you start gathering seeds, it’s really very easy. Many plants produce such prolific numbers of seeds that you’ll have plenty to save for yourself and many to give as gifts to friends, too!

✍️ From my journal

I’ve been going down a Beatrix Potter rabbit hole.

What started as a passing curiosity about a few of her illustrations turned into a weeklong investigation. I insatiably devoured any piece about her I could get my hands on.

I was struck by how otherworldly that magnetic, yet enigmatic, captivation feels. I wondered where that force comes from. So I journaled about it, and thought I’d share it with you here.

I believe that we are recycled energy.

I believe that I am made of the energy of men and women before me. A dazzling, mysterious network of souls that span place and time.

Where am I? Who am I? I am on a constant search for the pieces. They are hidden, like clues, waiting for me to find them. To add another piece to the puzzle that is me.

Someday, I will retire into the earth. My energy will be recycled, parts of me will become one piece of a new someone.

I need to leave something behind. Clues. So they can find me. So they can find themselves.

🌸 Flower I’m admiring

We’re veering back into the land of edibles this week, because I cannot take my eyes off of the black strawberry tomatoes growing in numbers in the backyard.

They are a beautiful, small tomato marbled in indigo, scarlet and gold. Even if I didn’t like tomatoes, I’d grow them for their otherworldly allure.

But the flavor is also divine—far more fruity than your average tomato, it tastes like a cross between a sugar-sweet cherry tomato and a plum!

Are you going to try saving some seeds this year? From which flowers? Reply and let me know! I myself have already started with poppies and pansies. I’m not sure which I’ll attempt next!

xx,

Courtney