Volunteers in the garden

Jill Severn

As most gardeners know, not all volunteers are humans. Many plants generously volunteer to grow even where we didn’t plant them. Dandelions are among the most enthusiastic. But they are one among many, and most are the offspring of what we’ve chosen to grow.

This time of year, you might notice a new clump of asters twenty feet from the mother plant you carefully placed two years ago. Plants from the front yard – or the neighbor’s yard – may mysteriously appear in your backyard without waiting for an invitation. Sometimes this is serendipity; sometimes it’s annoying. Columbine is both beautiful and annoying; in my garden it comes up everywhere, including in the middle of other plants, where removing it without killing the plant it invaded, it requires surgeon-level skill. But on the serendipity side of the ledger, I am delighted by a spreading carpet of little purple violet that has appeared in my lawn.

Seedlings of larkspur, poppies, alyssum and heaven knows what else you’ve planted are coming up all over too. In May or June you might also find a renegade tomato plant – a seed left in the ground from last year’s crop. If you’ve let arugula, lettuce or especially dill go to seed, your tidy rows of this year’s vegetables are likely to be interrupted by their progeny.

But maybe you can’t identify who’s who or what’s what among all these volunteers, especially among the little seedlings.

What should the puzzled gardener do? Here are some decision-making options:

• Weed all the volunteers out immediately before they create chaos. Argument for: ensures tidiness and eliminates possibly troublesome weeds. Argument against: Reduces spontaneity, and eliminates pleasant surprises.
• Wait until they grow big enough to identify. Argument for: you’ll be making informed decisions about what to keep. Argument against: Maybe they will need to bloom before you can identify them, and by the time they do, your garden will be overcrowded. The plants you know and love may suffer.

Another argument against: A lot of our plants are hybrids (crosses of two different parent varieties). This means that a volunteer tomato plant probably won’t produce exactly the same sort of tomato you had last year. And if you grew more than one kind of squash, they probably cross-pollinated, and you may get zupumpkins, which are rarely very tasty. Flowers may come up smaller, or in fewer colors, or with fewer blooms or less fragrance.

• Do some research. For instance, Auntie Google often offers pictures. If you ask “What do alyssum seedlings look like” your mystery may be solved. Argument against: Not everything you see online (or in garden books, magazines or columns) is true. Experience is the most reliable teacher.
• Dig plants up and move them. Argument for: When plants are little, this is usually successful, especially when the ground is damp, it’s still rainy, and they won’t wilt in hot sun. Argument against, sort of: You’ll need to know what they are before you do this.
• Keep some, but not all. Argument for: Common sense. Decide where and how many you want, and pull the rest up. Argument against: See below.
• Dig plants up and give them away. Argument for: you’ll make garden friends, or please the ones you already have. Argument a little bit against: You’ll need containers of some sort to put them in, and it’s a bit more work than other options. Also, your friends, new or old, will need to get them in the ground sooner rather than later.

Managing all these plant volunteers may be challenging, but it is still often easier than managing the human variety. If you doubt this, ask someone who has done both.

Jill Severn writes from her home in Olympia, where she grows vegetables, flowers, and a small flock of chickens. She loves conversation among gardeners. Start one by emailing her at  jill@theJOLTnews.com