Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness

September news from the farm

We had enough rain yesterday for a puddle to form. I paddled in it. This incredibly long, dry summer is slowing to a close. I will admit that despite the full days of dripping sweat, I have loved it more than loathed the heat. And not being inclined to water much I’ve been amazed at how resilient the garden here has been.

It seems counterintuitive for a flower farmer, growing flowers for sale partly to make a living, but also to create an environment where invertebrates can thrive, to spend a lot of mains water growing those flowers. And so I’ve held a small, very unscientific experiment here this summer 2025. As per usual I watered seedlings in well when I planted them. And then mostly I left my plants to get on with the hot, dry conditions as best they could.

Now it is true that we grow here on thick, Somerset clay, which means we mulch a lot and dig as little as possible, but also means the water is held firm in a medium which one would never describe as free draining. In winter the land here is often more like a marsh than farmland. In summer that winter water doesn’t drain too far - usually. This year, though, we’ve had cracks in the ground three feet deep, the moisture evaporating more and more every day. But still I avoided watering.

I have long said I think we gardeners massively over-water. We are sold so many watering devices, told that without water our plants will die. We feel, even, that if we stand in the hot sun at lunchtime and we might faint in it how much worse must it be for our carefully nurtured seedlings, plants, perennials, shrubs and trees? And so we water.

The problem with regular watering is that it teaches the plants you’re aiming the water at to reach their roots up to the surface of the soil where they learn to expect to be watered. This means that those roots are at risk in hot weather, especially if you go away for a few days, or forget to water on a busy day. These poor, trained-to-be-shallow-rooted plants struggle when it’s hot because their roots are waiting for water in those hot top few inches of the soil.

Be a bit meaner with the water and the plant will send its roots deeper to find moisture. This will make the plant more resilient to heat when the mercury rises, and stronger in end of season storms (because the roots are holding on feet down in the soil.) Not only that, but when it comes to removing spent plants, if you cut them off at ground level, and leave the roots in the ground, then the mycorrhizal relationship between plant roots and soil will be left to proliferate and engage with new planting when you make it giving you deeper healthier soil to grow in. Win win win.

I have spot watered this summer. I’m not a complete lunatic. But I have only spot watered with a can (unlike just turning on the tap, spot watering with a can is tiring, time consuming, and hard work, so something one naturally avoids - only allowing oneself to spot water is a great way to stop watering too much) or sloshing the contents of studio buckets (not that many as I do less floristry myself these days and most of my crop is harvested and collected in buckets by my clients) onto shrubs and trees planted bare root last winter. I have not run the tap for hours to water the cut flower patches here. And despite the lack of water I’m here to tell you I have not noticed a difference in output in my harvest despite the heat and endless dry weather.

I have noticed shorter stems. My amaranthus is usually taller than I am, and this year it’s more chest height. The dahlias are flowering but much shorter stems than in more usual wet Somerset summers. The roses have had their best year ever and haven’t given a fig about the dry heat, throwing their usual long stems and beautiful big flowers. They’ve barely taken a break over the summer and are still flowering strongly. I have fed the roses twice, with organic seaweed solution. I’ve fed the dahlias twice too, with the same solution. But they need more water for better stem length.

I’ve been thinking about writing about watering all summer. After all, wouldn’t it be better to encourage people to water less while the heat is on? But I didn’t write before because I wanted to see if my instincts were right. Would the garden survive all summer with so little water? Would I get enough crop to be able to supply my customers with the orders I’ve been taking for a year or more (wedding flowers are often booked over a year in advance here - wise clients do this because they know that I can only supply two or three weddings per weekend, and so will sell out when I have enough pre-orders for each week in the calendar.)

So yes, I have ordered the occasional top up from nearby colleagues: Natalie, at Somerset Dahlias, for example, grows way more dahlias than I do - in fact her flower farm just a few miles away from here has given me permission to grow fewer dahlias myself and specialise more in the roses that love to grow here. I’m always telling my flower farming students that their neighbouring growers are their colleagues not competitors, and Natalie just proves this point. There are masses of small businesses growing flowers for sale around here: I call on Black Shed in Sherborne when I need more orange or white, and the South West Flower Grower’s Hub run this year by Lizzie Fairrie of Puggs Meadow Flowers are people I can buy from and to whom I can send customers when I can’t help for one reason or another. But I’ve never had to order because my crop has failed for lack of water, not even this boiling hot, loooooong, dry summer. And that amazes me.

It seems counterintuitive for a person like me growing an environment designed to serve invertebrates to then use up resources like mains water to keep the garden hydrated. And to my astonishment I find I really haven’t needed to. Yes, late season sowings of zinnias and cosmos have had the occasional spot water until they were established. Yes, shrubs and trees planted bare root in winter have had the leftovers from the studio in the form of the occasional bucket of water sloshed in their general direction. But otherwise I have held my nerve. And every time I’ve felt desperate enough that I think, now, today, surely I must water now, a little drop of water appears on the weather forecast, and we’ve had a tiny flourish of rain which has stopped me.

Over the past few days we’ve had some lovely rain though. Proper rain. Perfect rain. Perfect rain you ask? Surely rain’s rain. How can it be perfect? Well perfect rain comes in little flurries. Gently. Often. We’ve had enough rain over the past few days that the bare patches in the grass look softer, crumblier. The earth in the flower beds is almost visibly coming back to life, soft to touch rather than concrete. There are suddenly slugs mooching about on the surface where I haven’t seen a slug for months. The scent of the rain on the grass this cool, late summer morning, was deliciously fresh. To step out of the back door and think, ‘Oh, maybe I need boots today,’ for the first time in months is a cheerful gift.

Looking at the weather forecast I may need boots every day for a while. Suddenly there’s enough rain to make it worth planting out my too-big-for-their-seed-trays biennials. I feel the urge to order mulch, to clear spent annuals, make way for next season’s planting. It’s time to take cuttings of tender perennials and scented pelargoniums. I’m grateful for the season we’ve had. I’ve loved the heat and I’m glad I held back from watering so that this little flower farm can make a net positive contribution to the planet rather than costing the earth. And I’m looking forward to doing it all again next summer, being mean with the water, and still watching the flowers grow.

Workshops and demos

For more on flower growing and arranging, for pleasure and/or profit we have lots of interesting workshops and demos coming up this autumn term.

We cut our teaching year into three ten week terms and the autumn term starts Monday 1st September with a great mix of workshops, demos, and of course live chats for Club members (paid Subscribers here on Substack) running until early December. You can see what we’ve lined up for our live chats this term here.

Check here for workshop information.

And remember, Club members get 10% off all workshops, demos, and flowers with their discount code which changes monthly and which we post regularly on club pages and below the paywall.

We are booking up well into 2026 for wedding and event flowers so if you’re thinking of ordering from us for your celebration do get in touch sooner rather than later as we have some weekends which are already sold out.

So happy gardening all. I hope you’re enjoying your glut of tomatoes (hasn’t it been a great year for them!) and your dahlias are bringing you joy. I hope you too are feeling ready to clear space to plant out biennials for spring and early summer colour. And if like me you think you might be interested in trying to sow more seed grown nearby (for eco reasons, not jingoistic!) then do follow along to see how my search for locally grown seed and the varieties I can source develops.