From my perspective as a marigold plant, the entire season has been a glorious journey towards this moment: creating the next generation. You must wait until I signal that I am ready. Do not be tempted by the vibrant orange and yellow petals; they were merely my advertisement to the bees. The true treasure lies beneath. Watch my flower heads carefully. As summer fades, the petals will wither and dry, turning a crispy brown. This is not a sign of my demise, but of my success. The base of the flower head, the green part that held the petals (you might call it the ovary), will swell and begin to dry out, turning a pale tan or straw color. When the entire structure feels dry and papery to the touch, and you can see the tips of the individual seeds (which are actually my fruits, called achenes) starting to poke out, I am ready for harvest.
On a dry, sunny afternoon, when there is no morning dew left upon me, approach. Gently hold the dry flower head over a paper bag or a bowl. My connection to the stem is tenuous now, a final thin thread. A simple pinch or a light twist should be enough to snap the stem, releasing the flower head into your container. If I resist, I need a few more days of sun. You may also choose to cut a few entire stems with multiple dry heads and bring them indoors. The key is gentleness; a rough harvest can scatter my precious children prematurely or damage them.
This is the moment of revelation. Inside each dried flower head are dozens of my seeds. They are slender, arrow-shaped, and colored a muted black or dark grey, often with a white or pale tip. To liberate them, you can simply hold the flower head over your container and rub it gently between your fingers. The seeds will readily break free, along with some dried petals and plant debris (the chaff). I do not mind if a little chaff remains with the seeds, but if you wish for a cleaner collection, you can gently blow across the seeds in the bowl. The lighter chaff will fly away, leaving the heavier, viable seeds behind. Alternatively, you can place everything in a fine-mesh sieve and shake it gently.
My seeds are now alive but dormant, containing the tiny, sleeping spark of next year's marigolds. To ensure this spark survives, they must be perfectly dry before storage. Any residual moisture will cause mold, which is a death sentence. Spread the seeds in a single layer on a paper plate, a coffee filter, or a sheet of newspaper. Place them in a warm, dry, and well-ventilated spot out of direct sunlight for about a week. A room-temperature airing cupboard or a spot on a shelf is perfect. Do not rush this process. When the seeds are hard and brittle, they are ready for their long sleep.
My children need a dark, cool, and dry environment to dream until spring. Please do not store them in a plastic baggie alone, as this can trap moisture. A small paper envelope is my preferred cradle. It allows us to breathe and absorbs any stray moisture. You can then place these paper envelopes inside a glass jar or a airtight plastic container with a tight-sealing lid. This double protection is ideal. Most importantly, label your container with my name and the year of collection. Finally, store our container in a cool, dark place, like a pantry or a cupboard. A refrigerator is also suitable, as it provides a consistently cool temperature, but ensure the container is absolutely airtight to prevent condensation.
