Plant peony poppies nowfor a spring explosion of pink.
Want to sew a little happiness this weekend?
Your garden is a good place to start. Nurseries are stocked with cool-weather annuals, such as pansies, violas, dianthus, alyssum, lobelia and calendula. It is also the time to plant many spring bloomers from seed in our area, so they have time to mature and flower before temperatures turn hot again next May. That includes springblooming wildflowers such as bluebonnets and coreopsis.
Many yards have never looked better after a year of pandemic pampering. March will bring us back full circle. For the next go-round, I’m trying to plan more purposefully.
Should I really repeat last spring’s peony poppy parade? I’ve been growing Papaver paeoniflorum for years, a tradition that started when a neighbor gave me a seed packet. Since then, I have harvested fresh seeds from the beautiful pods after they dry up each May. When the tops of the pods pop up like little salt shakers, I empty the tiny seeds into baggies and store them in the fridge. I’m pretty certain they reseed to some extent without my help, but collecting seed is also a way of keeping them in control.
My fall poppy seed-planting ritual is quite loose: I simply scatter them and walk away. They might move with wind or rain, and I have learned to let them set their roots wherever they land. Once seedlings emerge, they do not tolerate transplanting. All of this applies only to the bright pink variety, which has been reliable. I have
failed miserably with the beautiful maroon one. (Seed sources include onestoppoppyshop.com, which is based in Wisconsin.)
This year, I got too busy to thin out the poppy seedlings when they emerged in January and February. By the time the pandemic set in, we had the biggest peony poppy profusion ever. Virtually every bit of flower bed in our front yard — including pockets of daffodils, irises and roses that I had coddled — was smothered by the tall, bluegreen plants with their big, blousy, bubble-gum-pink blossoms. Their show stopped traffic and left a lot of people smiling.
I was happy to make others happy. But frankly, all the poppies were a bit out of scale with our small front yard. My inner control freak is begging for a better balanced spring display next year, with more flowers that serve pollinators. The peony poppies are merely decorative in that way. They can shine, but they need to share the spotlight responsibly.
So, other seeds also are finding their way into our yard now, too. Colorful packets of sweet alyssum have been calling to me, even though I also have bought transplants as insurance, to get the show started faster. They need the right conditions to sprout and grow, including full sun and moist soil.
It also pays to follow the instructions on packets regarding planting depth and spacing, which are not the same for all seeds. Alyssum seeds, for example, need light to germinate. They just want to be sprinkled on top of the soil and tamped in a bit. The large seeds of nasturtiums, on the other hand, should be poked into the soil about an inch deep, individually. They are among the easiest seeds to grow but also among the riskiest: A hard freeze will turn young plants to mush.
I don’t buy packets of mixed flower seeds because they often contain plants that don’t thrive in our climate. But I got a “Bee Feed” flower mix as a gift this year, so what the heck. I’ll give it a try.
That’s really the key to finding happiness in the garden any time: accepting that your efforts are a grand experiment, no matter how well you plan.