Growing Flowers: Spring Lessons Learned
PART 2
As if you didn’t think I’d already messed up enough this spring… I present to you: PART 2 of my spring lessons.
But first, if you missed PART 1? No worries! Catch up HERE first!
Yes, I learned A LOT this year. But that’s farming for you—trial and error. It’s no wonder so many folks burn out after just a few years. Just when you think you’ve figured it out, something changes: what worked last year doesn’t work this year, the weather throws a curveball, life happens. You get the picture. It’s HARD.
LESSON 5 – Fall-Sown Hardy Annuals Produce Better Plants
Moral: Plant Abundantly!
To keep the blooms coming, I usually do two successions of hardy annuals—one in the fall and one in very early spring. (If you’re unfamiliar with hardy annuals, read THIS first.)
This year’s lineup:
- Snapdragons
- Larkspur
- Dianthus (Sweet William)
- Agrostemma
- Bachelor Buttons
- Delphinium
- Monarda Lambada
- Nigella
As I mentioned in Part 1, some of my fall-sown hardy annuals didn’t survive the harsh winter. But the ones that did (and weren’t in compacted soil) absolutely thrived. Big, healthy plants with abundant blooms. The spring-sown ones? Meh. They did okay… just not nearly as well.
Why do fall-sown plants tend to outperform their spring-sown siblings? A few reasons—but mostly because they get more time to establish strong root systems, which support healthier, more vigorous growth. Some varieties also need a long cold period to really shine. Snapdragons, especially—fall-sown snaps are a whole different beast than their spring-sown counterparts.
Next year, I’m going all in on fall sowing—not just for what might survive, but because the results are simply so much better.
LESSON 6 – Get Your Irrigation Down EARLY
Nothing makes you appreciate weather more than farming. You know that old saying, “April showers bring May flowers”? Yeah… unless they don’t.
Spring 2025 was relatively kind—cool temps and decent rain. I only had to run my irrigation a handful of times, but I was so thankful it was there. I learned this lesson the hard way in Spring 2023, when we had a brutal drought in April and May. I literally have a photo of myself on June 9, 2023, grinning in the rain like it was Christmas morning.
Summer 2024 brought more drought—so severe that Howard County offered a “Drought Relief Grant” to ag businesses. Thankfully, I was prepared. Irrigation = lifesaver.
But… this year I made a different mistake. I waited too long to install it. Not because of drought, but because I procrastinated, and by the time I got around to it, most of the beds were already planted. Weaving irrigation around plants took forever. So here’s my plea to you (and myself): Don’t wait! Do it early. Set it up when you still have a clean slate. Your future self will thank you.
LESSON 7 – Don’t Forget to Fertilize
Spring is a whirlwind—bed prep, irrigation, weeding, planting, netting, harvesting, selling… It’s a lot. And sometimes, things slip through the cracks.
This year, I forgot to fertilize consistently. If I’d started with nutrient-rich compost or better soil (see Part 1), it might’ve been fine. But my soil was lacking, and my plants definitely paid the price. They were hungry, and hungry plants = weak plants. Weak plants = short stems, smaller blooms, and a greater risk of disease or pests.
There are lots of ways to fertilize—too much to get into here—but bottom line: if you want healthy, productive plants, feed them.
LESSON 8 – Don’t Put All Your Eggs (or Bulbs… or Seedlings…) in One Basket
Let’s talk about Tulip Fire—a dreaded, soil-borne disease that can take out an entire tulip crop. For years, I told myself, “That’ll never happen to me.” Famous last words. It did. Not a total loss—thankfully it hit the last ¼ of my crop—but it could’ve been so much worse.
I also lost almost my entire Campanula crop this year. Last year, it thrived. I had so much I could barely use or sell it all. So this year, I planted less and consolidated it in one bed. Mistake. Something in the mulch (or who knows what) didn’t agree with them, and they died off, one by one. I ended up with maybe 20 usable stems. Oof.
For the last two years, I planted tulips in two different spots. But this year, trying to save time and effort, I packed 1,000+ bulbs into one 4×8 raised bed. And that’s the one that got hit. Had the disease struck just a few weeks earlier, I would’ve lost the entire crop. And if you’ve been following the Holland tulip bulb drama, you know that would’ve been a massive loss—$$$.
So, moving forward, I’ll be spreading out:
- High-value crops
- Crops I rely heavily on
- Crops prone to disease
That way, I’m minimizing risk and getting to experiment with how different locations affect performance.
So there you have it—more hard-earned lessons from another wild spring on the farm. If you’re feeling like this whole flower-growing thing is a never-ending cycle of learning (and un-learning), you’re not alone. Every season brings its own challenges, surprises, and yes—failures. But also, growth. Both in the field and in me.
Some of these lessons I wish I didn’t have to learn the hard way, but they’ve made me a better grower and a more resilient business owner. I’ll be heading into fall with a renewed focus: sow more in autumn, set up irrigation before planting, fertilize consistently, and spread out the risk.
Farming is humbling—but also incredibly rewarding. Here’s to carrying these lessons forward, and hopefully making a few less mistakes next year (but no promises). 🌱💪
That's a Wrap! Thanks for Reading! ~Melissa
Know Someone Obsessed with Flowers or Gardening?
Consider sharing this post or my page with them!
Most of my business is done by word of mouth, so every share or recommendation helps.
Thanks for your support!
(C) Copyright 2025- Branches & Batches Flower Farm
