I love a free plant. Even better, one that plants itself. I'm talking about reseeding plants, the ones that once done with flowering, set seed and spew forth their progeny with wild abandon.
In garden catalogs they are sometimes politely labeled prolific, yet at other times called out as promiscuous, as with Verbena bonariensis, "a shameless self-seeder."
Of course, there's a fine line between enthusiastic reseeding and downright invasiveness in certain species. I'm as fearful as the next person of "vigorous" (another catalog code word) plants that multiply with underground rhizomes or runners hellbent on world domination. But for the most part, the plants I describe in this column are old-fashioned annuals (and a few perennials) that you can sow once and then enjoy forever.
Self-seeders certainly appeal to the budget-conscious gardener but you might even say these repeat performers help keep a garden sustainable, as they can be depended upon to return with little input from the homeowner.
Left to their own devices, these plants disperse seed close to the mother plant and germinate the following season, leaving no mistake about identification. However, in some cases, the seeds travel on the wind or by bird; humans help out, too, with their watering hoses and leaf blowers often sending the seeds far from their original source.
Without obvious clues to their parentage, these farther-flung seedlings can be harder to identify at first. You may want to delay spring weeding until the tiny plants have developed their true leaves for a proper ID.
Sometimes you may have to let the plant gain some size before deciding if it's friend or foe. And then there are those mystery tomatoes.
Element of surprise
But not all self-seeders appear in spring; they can show up throughout the growing season, depending upon their species. Every year, just when I'm ready to give up on them, orange butterfly weed (milkweed, Asclepias tuberosa) babies pop up all around the garden.