Favorite Annual and Self-Sowing Flowers
For the past two years, I’ve been experimenting with a wide range of plants in my cutting garden. I like the model of perennial plants and even shrubs as the garden’s “backbone” with pockets of annual planting that must be “flipped’ multiple times a year. In a retail analogy, this would be like the permanent infrastructure of the store accented by a seasonal displays that change out more often and are really eye-catching. It’s essentially the system of an English border, but in a cutting garden. The variety and interest in perennial plants and shrubs are unsurpassed, as well as the bonus that they don’t have to be replaced every year. But generally, perennials have fairly short bloom windows. Including annuals requires more regular input and additional planning, but it also insures that there will always be something to cut - with a bonus that each year can look a little different. So far, I have tried both some the classic annuals that are definite winners in my southern climate (zone 7b) as well as a few that tend to be a little bit more picky. I’ve tried some that just weren’t worth the effort and I’ll probably never plant again. I’m sure that this list will expand as the years go along, but here are the annuals that earned themselves a permanent place in my garden so far either because they have such a long, dependable window of bloom, or because when they do bloom they’re so special.
ANNUALS:
Dutch Tulips | I love a classic white or crimson tulip, and the double-petaled varieties are the beauty queens of early spring, looking a lot like peonies but flowering a few weeks earlier. I have heard tales of certain species tulips perennializing and coming back year after year in the South, but I have yet to test the theory myself. I definitely consider tulips annuals and plant the bulbs each year in the fall. Their season is short, but in early April when not much else has woken up yet, they’re an incredibly welcome treat.
Snapdragon | This is another to plant in the fall. The ones I planted last year around this time bloomed starting early spring and continued well into mid-summer.
Scabiosa | Also called “pincushion flower.” There are both annual and perennial scabiosas; the annual one is Scabiosa atropurpurea. Again, this is one to plant in the fall. I planted a gorgeous mahogany (almost black!) variety last year with hints of berry. I didn’t plant it this year because I’m devoting some space to experiment with other things, but it will definitely be a regular in my garden along with its perennial cousin, Scabiosa columbaria.
Cosmo | A summer cutting garden without cosmos would be like a sundae without the whipping cream. The frothy, etherial foliage and cup-shaped blooms are endlessly romantic… and bomb-proof. The only way to mess up with cosmos is not cutting them often enough. The more you cut, the more they bloom. I’ve tried a few varieties and so far, I love the white “cupcake” with petals that look minutely pleated.
Zinnia | Zinnias just might be the easiest cut flowers to grow, and like so many candy sprinkles throughout the garden. Certain varieties feature slightly more muted tones, but usually they come in characteristically splashy jewel colors. I tend to like the ones with a gradient or slight variation of the centers to add nuance. They are a simple, cheerful, and abundantly productive addition to the summer cutting palette; the more they’re cut, the more they’ll grow.
Gomphrena | Gomphrena’s pom-pom flowers give the same structure in a cut flower bouquet as allium do in the garden. The white and lavender-blooming plants are nothing much to look at in the garden, but that is more than made up for in their function as cut flowers. Stiff stems with globes at the end break up the sweep of softer, more romantic shapes with graphic punctuation marks - and these last a very long time in the vase. They come in lavender, white and even a giant magenta variety called “fireworks.” (I don’t personally love the magenta color, but the form of the plant is fantastic.)
Mahogany Hibiscus | This plant has no flowers, but the foliage is absolutely stunning with glossy, wine-colored leaves. It loves heat and grows exuberantly with long, sturdy stems perfect for cutting as filler material in bouquet.
Dahlia | Dahlias are a special case. They aren’t annuals, but perennial tubers. With care, they will continue on and multiply over the years. However, if you leave them in the ground over winter in heavy clay soil, you will end up replacing them often, if not every season because the tubers will rot in the wet ground. Last winter I was so busy with school and ill with morning sickness that I didn’t dig up and store my tubers, and only a few came back this year - and even those that returned did not bloom well. So here’s my recommendation: if you don’t want to dig and store, expect them to be annual. If you dig them, you won’t have to buy them again, but you will have to replant in spring. Either way, it’s a twice-yearly task that is best done in the area of the garden you’ll be working the ground in regularly (e.g. not an established perennial area in which you’d be disturbing roots).
SELF-SOWING ANNUALS:
The following are annuals which I have planted once and not needed to plant again, as they’ve come up from seed in consecutive years. Recognizing seedlings of a favorite self-sower (and therefore leaving them rather than weeding them out along with undesirables) is one of the true pleasures of tending a garden year after year. It feels somehow as if the garden is creating something with you of its own will. The fluidity and surprise of self-sowing plants isn’t for everyone; you may not want to plant these if you prefer a very formal “in-the-lines” kind of garden. My personal approach is to embrace the self-sowing nature of these friends (and there are plenty of perennials not on this list that do the same), simply editing out or moving them if they become too plentiful or show up in the wrong spot.
Celosia | I’ve only grown one so far - a wheat celosia that I bought from Floret called “Flamingo Feather.” It has delicate, feathery plumes in pale pink and is wonderful in almost any arrangement. I planted it two years ago and now I think (hope!) that I’ll always have it come up somewhere. The seeds are plentiful and easy to save, so if someday they don’t appear on their own, I’ll always have a stash to throw out. This is one that is just as happy direct-sown as babied in a seed tray. Save that special treatment for the princess types!
Bachelors’ Buttons | This one is a cutting and cottage garden classic for a reason! It came up from seed dropped by last year’s crop and provided some of the first flowers for cutting in early spring. I love that it generally comes as a color mix and so you can cherry pick in shades of blue, white, and purple, depending on the color palette you need. In a word, quaint.
Orlaya | I didn’t even know I needed orlaya in my garden until it snuck in on some soil with a rose purchased from my friend Melissa at Fraylick Farm last year. The rose had previously lived near some of her plants that had gone to seed mid-summer. Those seeds were an extremely welcome stowaway, and I cheered when I first saw the seedlings pop up late winter. The plant is fairly compact and the umbel blooms give an ethereal touch in both garden and arrangement. I hope it shows up again this year!
Kale | I never thought about kale self-seeding, but of course it does! I left last winter’s plants up long enough to go to seed over the summer. A couple of weeks ago I noticed tiny kale seedlings popping up all over the garden. I’m going to leave them and see how they do in comparison to the ones I started in seed trays and planted out. I’ll definitely be sowing all varieties of kale seeds direct in fall from now on.
Foxglove | I grew foxglove for the first time this year, and I know they’re notorious self-sowers. Most varieties are biennial (two year cycle), but there are a few that flower within the cycle of one year, and there are also a few that are rumored to be perennial! I have my fingers crossed that mine from this year spread seed around and that I’ll have even more show up next season. I love them so much that I’ll plant them again and again every year even if they don’t.
Love In a Puff | This delicate vine with tiny white flowers and paper lantern-like seed pods will scramble up any vertical structure: a fence, another shrub, or a trellis. I’ve had much better success with the seedlings that self-sowed than I have with the ones that I babied under lights. The ones that came up from the soil grew faster and stronger by leaps and bounds - lesson learned.