In 2023, we planted our first sunflower forest. In 2024 we did it again after extensive sewer work was needed, involving a wide and deep trench through the yard.

Our goal was to break up and improve the compacted clay soil in our front yard. We had already done half the yard manually, overturning about a foot of soil and covering it with cardboard, compost, and mulch.

The work was hard on us and on the soil. With patience, sunflowers could do the job for us. They are magical plants that grow quickly with deep taproots. Those roots aerate the soil, pull up deep nutrients, help clear out toxins, break up compacted ground, and add organic matter. Stalks of the sunflowers grow quickly with large leaves over a long period of time. This shades the soil, improves water retention, shades out weeds, and provides cover for more vulnerable annuals. I’ve also found that the dried stalks work well for temporary supports or grind up easily into mulch.

Once bloomed, a hurried and vibrant community of bees took up residence. Gardeners and landscapers have told us in awe and surprise that our bee activity is special. With bees and most pollinators under threat, creating a paradise for them has been a high priority for us.

As the blooms wilt and summer relaxes into fall, a new community moves in. Finches, sparrows, chickadees, jays, crows, towhees, and juncos flutter about, enjoying seeds, pecking at leaves, and entertaining our orange cats as they watch from our windows. Squirrels do their best to join in, often dangling haphazardly from the sunflowers, barely able to support their weight.

More than any other flower, sunflowers have a face to them. They watch the sun as it moves through the sky and point down as their life comes to an end as if they are ready to rest. This sense of personality I felt coming from these flowers led me to take casual portraits of them. And the sunflowers have quickly become one of my favorite plants to grow and enjoy.

Everything was shot on an iPhone.