Sowing Wild Flowers

The most recent additions to my new cut flower garden are starting to show signs of life. Two years ago, on our honeymoon in Montana, Chris bought me a pack of wildflower seeds. Grow the Flowers of Glacier, the packaging promises. Included are:

• 

  The Glacier Park Lodge’s beautiful pathway of local flowers leading straight to the train station.

• Paintbrush
• Gaillardia
• Fireflower
• Phlox
• Rose
• Flax
• Columbine
• Forget-Me-Not
• Lupine
• Penstemon
• Iris
• Bluebell

Some of these I know. Some have such intriguing names that I can’t wait to meet them.

After the last good rain, I turned the dirt in the new garden one more time, simply loosening it with a rake and pulling out any hints of grass and clover left behind. Next, I sprinkled the entire contents of the bag into the loose soil. I covered the seeds with a thin layer of potting soil, simply shaking big handfuls evenly over the seeds. I’ve been watering daily, as much to keep the little seeds growing as to keep my four-legged assistant from settling in this nice cool patch of dirt.

The instructions included with the seeds note that some of these flowers are annual and some perennials. Some may take two or even three years to creep up out of the ground. And of course, two years have passed since I should have tucked them into the dirt.

Still, my two-legged helper and I have been inspecting the grounds daily. Little Rose is insistent on toddling everywhere now, which she can only do if I hold her hands to keep her steady as we explore. It gives me a good, close view of the ground, though, which is the only way I could have spotted the minute hints of green peeking up out of the dirt yesterday. Rose and I stopped to applaud our success, then went off to fetch the hose. There’s a long way to go before those little sprigs of green are ready to bloom.