When I stopped deadheading calendula I noticed the goldfinches returned and suddenly the wild had a place too

When I stopped deadheading calendula I noticed the goldfinches returned and suddenly the wild had a place too

Eleanor Ashford
Let me paint you a picture: a golden ribbon weaving through the greenery, a rush of wings that could turn the hardiest of hearts soft. You know you've encountered something quite special when the flitting form of a goldfinch visits your garden. And all this, I owe to calendula, or more specifically, to what happens when you choose not to deadhead it.

For many years, I pursued the well-intentioned ritual of deadheading calendulas with the earnest dedication of a disciple. Plucking the spent blooms seemed the proper, orderly thing to do, ensuring a prolonged flowering season and a tidier garden. And yet, there was a stirring in me, a quiet curiosity coupled with the growing awareness that perhaps my pursuit of perfection was keeping my garden from realising its wilder potential. That's when I decided to let the calendulas have their way.

A Surprise Visit

It was one of those cherished mornings when the sun hadn't quite committed to the day, casting soft, painterly light over my patch of earth. I found myself watching the calendulas, now unruly with seed heads, when a flash of yellow caught my eye. A goldfinch elegantly perched upon the dried bloom, its delicate beak deftly prying open the seed pod. Within moments another joined, and there they were, painting my garden with life and gentle commotion.

In that moment, it became clear to me that by removing the deadheads, I'd been unwittingly cutting off an important food source. Nature, in its infinite wisdom and balance, had offered me a gentle reminder of the layers of life that exist just beyond our attempts to curate and control.

Embracing Biodiversity

Allowing the calendula to complete its life cycle was a small, albeit radical, act of letting go for this lifelong gardener. It reminded me of the charm in wildness, restoring a touch of what our country gardens might have looked like in ages past. The goldfinches' visit was but an emblem of a healthier ecosystem, an indicator of renewed biodiversity.

I began to notice more: insects bustling around the seed heads, tiny alliances playing out as they went about their tree-to-flower errands. The garden became a microcosm of life, thriving in ways it hadn't before. My decision to stop deadheading these merry little flowers seemed to ripple through my outdoor space, encouraging a better balance with nature.

The History and Magic of Calendula

Calendula has been a treasured companion in British gardens for centuries, also known as pot marigold, a name tied to its culinary uses, where its petals lend colour, and a faint peppery taste to dishes. This vivid bloom, with its hues of sunset gold and rich flaming orange, is a modest marvel, requiring little and giving much.

Calendula carries historical significance too, often employed in traditional medicine for its purported healing properties, from smoothing irritated skin to brightening the spirits. Beyond its medicinal use, calendula has settled comfortably into the cottage garden aesthetic, its rustic beauty and vibrant petals lighting up borders and beds with an energy that feels both joyful and calming.

Yet, beyond its aesthetic and practical roles, calendula, when allowed to go to seed, becomes a gracious host in the wider play of life, inviting avian visitors like the goldfinch to partake in a feast.

Rethinking Deadheading

The very essence of gardening often lies in the balance between growth and surrender. We are trained to deadhead for extended blooming, but perhaps there's something more profound in reconsidering this practice from time to time. It’s a gentle reminder that the world doesn't always need to be kept neat. The somewhat wild clusters of half-spent calendula can serve not only as a testament to the cycle of life unfolding around us but also as a resistance against overmoulding nature to fit our human-centric ideals.

This revelation extends beyond the calendula. For example, cosmos and sunflowers also benefit from holding their blooms-turned-seedpods high through season winds. These plants offer sustenance to myriad creatures ensuring our gardens thrum with a vibrancy that goes far beyond aesthetic pleasure.

Creating a Wildlife-Friendly Garden

In rethinking our traditional approach to gardening, we can begin to embrace methods that foster wildlife. Consider sections where nature can play unhindered, leaving corners of your garden to revel in harmonised chaos. An overgrown nook can become a haven for insects, while seed-laden flowers invite feathered guests.

Use native plants as much as possible, choices that not only withstand our climate but are also crucial to the local fauna. Introducing water features, no matter how small, encourages amphibians and insects alike to take shade and sip in your stead. Birdbaths, too, make beautiful garden additions while serving as a critical water source for many creatures.

Mindful Gardening and Sustainable Practices

There's a deeper mindfulness that stems from letting nature take its course, a sense of peace that often eludes us in the chaotic hum of modern lives. Gardening offers reprieve and space for reflection. By allowing the garden to self-manage its cycle, we make a humble nod to the Earth, acknowledging that sustainability goes hand in hand with less intervention.

Sustainable gardening means more than just a nod to tradition. It encapsulates composting kitchen waste, collecting rainwater, using natural fertilisers, and considering biodiversity at every step. When done thoughtfully, these practices can amplify the garden's productivity without compromising its integrity or the well-being of its many small inhabitants.

Moreover, by leaning towards heritage seeds and shying away from chemical-use, we preserve biodiversity within our own patch, supporting bee populations and other precious pollinators vital to food production.

A Quiet Revolution in Your Back Garden

In letting my calendula run its natural course, I've found an unexpected richness in my garden. The re-emergence of wildlife I hadn't seen in years, such as the charm of a goldfinch, speaks to the small revolutions we gardeners can instigate in our backyards, bringing nature and its wisdom to the fore.

My garden no longer felt merely like an array of chosen plants under my stewardship but more of a collaborative project with Mother Nature herself. The potential for beauty, joy, and ecological restoration lies hidden within our gardens, waiting for a gentle unleashing through opt-in wildness. Each seed head left unplucked might signify yet another return to the sacred contract between soil, plant, creature, and human.

So whether you’re nurturing a fledgling plot or curating an expansive estate, consider allowing a few plants the indulgence of following their cycles; you might just find your own patch of Eden shifting into a wilder, more inclusive place of serenity and life. The goldfinches will thank you, and perhaps, in unexpected ways, you’ll find yourself grateful too.
Back to blog