Second harvest

10/07/2009
Second harvest

I've always been admirative of real seed savers--people who squeeze tomato seeds into plastic cups, label them, wait for them to ferment, strain out the seeds...  I'm still waiting to attain such an evolved level of organisation in my life.  And yet, this year the gardens in Normandy and Provence presented me with seed saving opportunities just too easy to pass up.  Plus, the sheer volume of seed available, just there for the picking...  Well, I would have felt guilty letting it go to waste. 

Also, I admit to becoming more and more fascinated by the sheer beauty of seeds.  It started when I saw a breath-taking exhibition of tree and shrub seeds put on by an arboretum for the Courson garden festival several years ago.  The seeds--in the form of berries, pods, nuts, acorns in all their endless variety--struck me with the rich variations in their forms, colors, and often, biological ingenuity.  In fact, if I had a collector's personality (which I don't), I would collect seeds for their variety and beauty.

As it is, I collect seeds to replant.  With the young garden in Provence hungry for plants, I figure I can't have too many seeds.  So, when the ripened, papery pods of the columbines in Normandy threatened to shatter and once more sow themselves to produce plantlets in inconvenient places that nevertheless I am loathe to uproot, ambition seized me.  I would collect those pods and transport their seeds to a shady border in Provence.  Surely, drought-resistant columbine stood a chance of flourishing there.

I used pruning shears to neatly nip their stems and carefully kept the stems upright so their tubular pods wouldn't empty out from their open tops.  I let the pods dry thoroughly for a few days, to rid the seeds of any traces of moisture.  Then, I shook them as if they were salt shakers over a sheet of baking parchment.  A heavy rain of small, shiny black seeds fell onto the paper.  Baking parchment is ideal for collecting small seeds as they don't stick to its nonadhesive surface, making them much easier to handle.  Fold the sheet in half, open it out, and shake out your seeds onto it.  The crease makes it easy to funnel the seeds into a jar, test tube, ziplock bag, or envelope.

Of course, not all seeds are equally easy to gather.  In the Normandy garden, I have a beautiful bright scarlet geum which produces hundreds of flowers each season.  The blossoms are followed by burr-like seedheads whose seeds cling stubbornly to their attachment until the entire seedhead is beaten down by winter weather.  These seeds, each with a crown of prickles designed most likely to become caught in animal fur (if you study seed morphology, you'll see it's all about getting disseminated), must be plucked from their points of attachment with the fingers before storing.

Flat hollyhock seeds are neatly packed into a perfectly circular ring within a papery capsule.  Once they are thoroughly dry, they're a snap to collect simply by rubbing the capsule between thumb and forefinger.  And what could be easier than planting hollyhock seeds?  As they need light to germinate, all you need to do is drop them on the ground!  Another advantage of hollyhocks is that they usually ripen their lower pods while still blooming at the top of their flower stalks.  This means that when you see a new and tantalizing hollyhock color not yet present in your garden, you can simply nab a few seedpods and stuff them in your pocket.  Many's the time when my hand has wandered into the pocket of a jacket I haven't worn for a long time to discover some hollyhock seeds.  Yes, I admit, I'm a bit of a seed kleptomaniac.

Many seedpods are simply beautiful.  The pods of opium or breadbox  poppy (as I see it is usually referred to in American catalogues so as not to excite DEA agents) are nearly as beautiful as the flamboyant blossoms.  They are wonderful additions, poised on their sturdy stems, to dried flower arrangements.  Then, when you get tired of them, simply snatch them out of the vase and shake them like so much pepper over  prepared soil.  Voilà!  More poppies, (almost) effortlessly.

Papaver rhoeum, the country cousin of the P. somniferum above, also has pretty pods, like a more delicate version of opium poppy's.  But their stems are too fragile for them to be much good in arrangements.  But, if you snip the pods off their stems, then, once they are thoroughly dry, store them in, for instance, an antique jar, they make for a charming decoration.  Until, of course, you decide to plant the seeds within them!

Some seedpods are programmed to shatter at a certain point of ripeness, scattering their seeds either to the wind or on the ground at their feet.  Annual sweetpeas are my most familiar example.  I have to gather them when the seeds are ripe and the pods are dry, but before they burst open into two spirals, expelling the seeds to the soil.  Sweetpeas, by the way, are one of the most gratifying seeds to save, as they keep their germinative power for several years.

Many herb seeds are important culinary condiments, of course, so when gathered, they do double duty in kitchen and garden.  What you don't use in the kitchen can be planted out in the garden for an abundant and economical new crop.  Dill, caraway, anise, fenugreek, coriander (final photo), black cumin or nigella are just a few examples. 

Once you've harvested and 'threshed' your seeds, the trick to saving them successfully is to make sure they're absolutely dry.  Leave them out in a warm dry spot (such as near a radiator or sunny window) for several days before storing.  And once again, humidity is the enemy of stored seeds.  Keep your seeds in airtight containers (even if you have them in envelopes, you can place the envelopes in jars) in a cool to cold place.  The freezer is best, if you have the space.  A bit of silica gel in the bottom of the jar is  good insurance against harmful moisture. 

Finally, it's important to realize that the length of viability of different seed species varies incredibly--from a couple of weeks to years!  Helleborus and delphinium seed, for example, should be planted as soon as harvested, or at least as promptly as possible thereafter. 

Now in October, most of summer's flowers are just a sunny memory.  Yet, I'm sure if you take a stroll through your garden, you'll come upon lots of opportunities to prolong their beauty season after season.  More modest than their brightly colored, many petaled forbears, all those seedpods contain a secret life just waiting to be saved--a veritable second harvest free for the picking!

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Products of Interest:
French garden poppy

Average to dry soils--Wild red poppy
Aromatic nigella