It’s springtime in the Applegate and there is a blush of new growth on the lavender. It starts slowly as the green shoots tentatively reach through the grey and brittle sticks of the seemingly lifeless plants. Over a week, perhaps two, the ocean of grey gives way to a green hue that you only catch in your peripheral vision and pretty soon, when it seems you just looked away for a moment, every bush is verdant green and promising new growth.
As for all perennials, lavender has a timetable. Its new year seems to begin in April in this part of Southern Oregon with the smallest of new shoots and by the end of May the new growth has reached up past last year’s trim to be a bigger and better plant than the year before. Here on the farm, our attention to the lavender is determined by the cycle the plants go through. It is certainly seasonal, but you cannot know the date the bloom will begin or the day the flowers will be ready to pick. There is a host of factors which either speed up or slow down the cycles the plant must work through, and so we watch, and we wait.
So often, we are asked if it’s time to trim the lavender or time to plant or time to water or feed. Each year we answer in general terms because the mechanism of perennials has more in common with the seasonal ocean tides than it does with a metronome. Each process begins with a cue from the plant. So we watch and we wait… and sometimes we rush to catch up! Around the middle of May, before the plant reaches out with flowering stems but after the chance of a heavy frost, we may choose to trim them. Nothing harsh, rather a shaping trim to cut back any areas of uneven growth. The goal is a neat ovoid, I would say a ball, but it never quite happens. We trim with electric shears although this could be done with snips if we didn’t have so many plants. If the stems are already reaching out though, this isn’t an option.
Around the end of May, the new green foliage will be full and lush and the rain will mean you haven’t had to water. The new stems will be reaching for the sun and may even have a swelling at the end from which the buds will emerge. These stems become the focus of the plant’s growth in the first few weeks of June and again, there will be a hint of color, this time purple, that you can see best in your peripheral vision. Look past the plants at something a few yards away and the wind will cause the stems to sway and there is just that notion of lavender/purple mixed in with the green. This new color begins my favorite time in the field here. The wind is unsettled in June and the sway of the new stems feels like ocean waves with green below and instead of white tops the waves carry a purple hue cascading across the field.
June can be frustrating as we wait first for the buds to emerge and then in turn for the flowers from the bud or calyx as it is known. The flowers are called corolla. They are fragile and short lived, but it is these corolla that the pollinators come for. As the farmer must wait for the flowers to emerge from about a third of the buds to know the plant is ready to harvest, the pollinators feel no such need to wait and they are on the plant and working from the very first flower. Our indicator that it is time to watch the flowers is the arrival of the bees and the butterflies. Walking near the field we can hear the bees and we know that it is time to watch the flowers more closely. Visitors are coming to the farm, and they want to pick lavender. But we must wait. When about one third of the buds have flowers on them, it is time to begin cutting. Cut the stems before that point and they will bend and wilt very quickly.
And so, with the harvest begun come the visitors to walk in the rows and take pictures of the ocean of purple. So many come to pick bunches and even more just to stand in the field and breathe the scent. It is a glorious sight, and the smell of the lavender and buzz of the bees feels like it is time to sit and rest and relax. It is also our cue to get on with the harvest! Harvest begins each morning when the sun is respectably above the horizon. It is tempting to harvest just before sun-up when the temperature is lower but the bees who sleep on the plants each night are slow to wake up. Drowsy bees are slow to move out of the way of the unfortunate harvester and a sting on the palm at the start of the day is unwelcome. So the sun is up, the bees are motile, and bunch by bunch the harvesters move up the rows.
The season is short for the first plants harvested. After being picked and banded they are hung in our barn to dry upside down. After the first few rows the smell in the barn is pungent with the smell of the drying green leaves and the bright purple buds. The flowers fall away quickly as they dry. They contain neither scent nor oil but it always seems such a shame to see them fall to the ground. Meanwhile the lavender bunches continue to come down from the field to fill the hanging racks on the ceiling and the summer is properly upon us.
It is in the closing days of July when the final bundles of lavender make it to the barn. The flowers have come and gone and so too has the vibrant color that so intoxicated the first visitors in mid-June. That last week has been tough on everyone as we harvest from 8:00 till 1:00 everyday and then take comfort in the shade during the long afternoon. Tiny finches always arrive at the end of the season and chase the harvest to glean seed from the ground. The harvest is in now. The farm closes for the year and we rest for a week. Maybe two.
By September the lavender plants have recovered from their ordeal and are looking green but with uneven stems leftover from the harvest. We typically put a light feeding of Epsom salts in the irrigation system at this time and head back out into the field to give the plants their year-end trim. Late September is a reasonable time for this but it’s not uncommon for us to be out there in early October.
As long as we trim the plants back to a close-cut ball then all is good. We try to stay two inches from any woody growth down in the plant to avoid shocking the old growth and weakening the plant. Again, we use a pair of powered trimmers. Scissors work just as well or even a small hedge trimmer if you’re careful. The goal is to achieve a small tight plant that will withstand the weight of snow should it come later in the winter. We often add a dilution of fish emulsion into the irrigation system after the pruning which encourages the plants to put on a little healthy growth before they enter their dormant phase.
Winter comes and by then even the green leaves have turned a more demure shade on their way to being a wintery grey. When the snow arrives, the compact plants will maintain their shape and resist intrusion by the elements. The mounds that were so vibrant and colorful only a few months back disappear under a blanket of white and we wait, once again, for the next indicator to spur us into action.
After the cold and snow pass and March is offering a few warm days, we go to see if all the plants made it through winter. Most of them are fine but there are always one or two that you think might have succumbed to the cold. But we wait. We are often surprised with new growth when we reinspect in April. April is also the time we test our soil and, more often than not, we add a light dose of diluted fish emulsion to give the plants time to strengthen up for the coming summer. Maybe some Epsom salts too. We feel the need to build them up for the coming season and, as they respond, and the new shoots begin again deep in the wood of the plant it is suddenly mid-May again and it all starts over.
Lavender has a simple soul. It seeks not to impress but only to survive. Its seeds, or nutlets as they are called, will fall on fertile soil and never take root. But on paths and the edges of roadways where life is arid and hard, lavender thrives. It seeks no favor and seems to prefer the hardship of stony and rocky soil. It must dry out between waterings and so avoid areas at the edge of regularly-watered lawns unless there is sand or rock to allow the water to dissipate. It is hardy and strong; animals avoid it, and pollinators love it. It is as beautiful as it is hardy and if it likes where it is planted, you will be blessed with a beautiful plant for many years.
by Derek Owen, The English Lavender Farm, Southern Oregon Lavender Trail