Sunflowers Part I

Helianthus annuus
Family: Compositae
Genus: Helianthus
Species: annuus

Picture courtesy Mary Sorrows Hughes

I read the other day that research scientists are working to extract DNA from very old potato leaves in order to replicate the fungus that caused Ireland’s Great Potato Famine in the 19th century. I say, they could save themselves the trouble and just visit my yard. Surely what they’re looking for can be found among the specimens that have appeared this year as never before. Fungal infestations are everywhere, brought on, I imagine, by the climatic conditions that are perfect for fungi and really, really annoying to their natural enemy: the home gardener.

We’ve had a series of three-day summers broken up by two-week forays back into March. With so much rain on so many gray days, we need a ray of light, a spot of color…we need sunflowers.

Most people are familiar with Helianthus annuus, the annual sunflower. It was the first seed many of us planted, and it is one of the most dramatic examples of the magic of growing things. One teensy little seed sprouts quickly and grows just as rapidly into a giant of a plant, towering over our heads with its own head drooping but still managing to follow the path of the sun every day. Birds and people alike eagerly wait for the seeds to ripen. Sunflowers are one of the plants with immense commercial value as well as ornamental value in the home landscape. Today, they are grown on a scale that is hard to imagine unless you’ve driven through either of the Dakotas in July.

Sunflowers were an important crop to American pioneer families in the northern plains, who needed something to accommodate the very short growing season. They ate the new growth like asparagus and the seeds, as a snack and in baking. Sunflower leaves and stalks were used as animal feed; stalk fibers could be woven into cloth; oil was used for cooking and to make soap; and the petals made a fine yellow dye. It is easy to see why the sunflower motif plays such a prominent role in American decorative arts. And of course, sunflowers were an important crop in Europe, too; just ask Mr. van Gogh.

So we have a tremendously useful and, in today’s language, “user-friendly” plant that is easy to grow and easier to enjoy. Cultivars come in tall, intermediate, and dwarf forms. The tall varieties—‘Russian Giant’ can exceed 10 feet—require staking and are best suited to the back of the border, where their heads show but their less-than-attractive foliage doesn’t. The intermediate cultivars usually reach four feet and are often multi-branched, with daisy-like heads. Dwarf sunflowers have large heads in proportion to their height, which is usually two feet or even less. These little guys do very well in the front of the border. Like their commercially cultivated cousins, they’ve been developed for their flowers, with enough foliage to support but not draw too much energy from that main feature.

The best news of all is that there’s still time to grow some sunflowers from seed. Steve Lorton, Sunset magazine’s northwest bureau chief, wrote some years ago that he plants the last sunflower (and zinnia) seeds in his Skagit garden on the Fourth of July. I tried it too, that year, and I had glorious sunflowers until the very end of September. It’s continued to work in most summers and it’s worth trying this year, since all you have to lose is the price of a packet of seeds. Just be sure, at this late date, to choose a dwarf variety.
So run outside and try planting a sunflower seed or two now. If there are children in the vicinity, include them in your Fourth of July adventure. When they see what happens when that seed gets a bit of water and a smidgen of sun, they may be on their way to the Master Gardener class of 2020. Follow the package directions for seed placement, put a bit of whatever slug bait you prefer around the site, and then put your feet up and watch for the magic to begin. And remember to tune in next month for Sunflowers: Part II, right here in this same space.