Early last spring I looked over the flower seed assortment. There were many envelopes with self-harvested seeds more than three years old.
These would go out for the birds. I tossed them onto the ground between the deer-proof fence and the row of mature trees.
Weeks later, there bloom the healthiest, greenest and prettiest specimens, much more so than those we lovingly tended.
– Eva Krawchuk writes from Winnipeg
