Greetings, dedicated gardener. I am your Black-eyed Susan, a vibrant perennial spirit (or sometimes an annual, depending on my variety) brought to life by the sun. To help me thrive and put on a spectacular show of golden-yellow blooms from summer through fall, here is a guide to my needs, expressed from my own leafy point of view.
As the soil warms and the days lengthen, I feel a surge of energy deep in my roots. This is the time for my grand emergence.
In early spring, as my first green shoots push through the earth, I would appreciate a gentle clearing of any winter debris around my crown. This allows the sun to reach me and prevents rot. Once I am a few inches tall, you can give me a light application of a balanced, slow-release fertilizer. Please, not too much! I am a tough plant and excessive food will make me leggy and floppy. If you wish for me to spread my joy or if my clump has become very dense, this is the perfect time to divide me. Gently lift my root ball, separate me into smaller sections with your hands or a sharp tool, and replant the divisions. It’s a rejuvenating experience that gives you more of me to enjoy.
This is my moment to shine! My flower stalks stretch towards the sun, and my iconic dark brown centers surrounded by golden petals begin to open.
My primary request during the heat of summer is consistent moisture, especially when I am forming buds and blooming. A deep, thorough watering once or twice a week is far better for my deep roots than frequent, shallow sprinklings. If you see my lower leaves looking a bit tired or spotted, don’t be alarmed; this is often just part of my lifecycle. You can focus your care on "deadheading"—the practice of snipping off my spent flowers. By removing the faded blooms, you signal to me that my work is not done. This encourages me to produce more and more flowers instead of putting energy into seed production. It also keeps me looking tidy and prevents me from self-seeding excessively.
As the sun’s intensity wanes, my flowering begins to slow. My energy starts to retreat from my leaves and stems, flowing back down into my roots for winter storage.
Towards the end of the blooming season, you might choose to leave the last of my flowers on the stalk. The dark, seed-filled cones are a vital food source for goldfinches and other birds, and I take great pride in supporting the local wildlife. Once my foliage has been browned by a hard frost, you can cut my stems back to about 2-3 inches above the ground. Alternatively, if you leave my standing stalks and seed heads through the winter, I will provide architectural interest in your garden and continue to offer seeds for foraging birds. This also offers a cozy hiding place for beneficial insects. A light layer of mulch (like shredded leaves or bark) applied after the ground freezes will help protect my roots from the cycle of freezing and thawing.
I am dormant now, resting quietly beneath the soil. My life force is concentrated in my roots, waiting patiently for the signal to begin again.
My needs are simple during this period: peace and quiet. The mulch you applied in late autumn is my blanket, insulating me from the harsh cold. There is no need to water or feed me. I am gathering my strength, dreaming of the sun. Your main task is to wait, just as I am waiting. Your patience will be rewarded when the cycle begins anew.
