She’d read the books. Yes, they were annuals. Yes, they could self-sow under the right conditions. But knowing a fact and witnessing a miracle were two different things.
The zinnias had reseeded themselves.
Clara laughed. “Better than some people I know,” she said. “They just need you to be a little lazy in the fall.” do zinnias reseed
By July, those volunteer zinnias were a riot of unexpected color—magenta, lemon yellow, and a deep burgundy she hadn’t planted in years. They were shorter than the ones she’d started indoors, hardier, more drought-tolerant. They looked like survivors.
It was late September, and Clara’s garden was a ghost of its July self. The zinnias—those bold pinks, oranges, and reds that had stood tall and proud—were now brown, brittle stalks. Their petals had long since scattered, leaving behind only prickly, dried-up seed heads that looked like tiny alien worlds. She’d read the books
Clara brushed a strand of gray hair from her face. “Nope,” she said. “They planted themselves.”
“So do zinnias reseed?” Leo asked, notebook in hand. But knowing a fact and witnessing a miracle
Do zinnias reseed?