It’s been a long January here at the cottage.

Since I started winter sowing six years ago, my experience of winter has changed dramatically. In a still moment, surrounded by seeds and milk jugs, my outlook shifted—from a barely-surviving mentality to one of quiet, hopeful anticipation—even in the waiting that so often defines January.

I can’t say I felt that positive outlook this January.

It wasn’t just the January-ness of it all. It was too much, all at once.

The daily grind, too many commitments at six months postpartum, emotionally depleting realities from one day to the next, an illness that wouldn’t let up, and a winter storm threatening power outages—ultimately pushing me into fight-or-flight for nearly a week, as my nervous system recalled the aftermath of Hurricane Helene.

Then came the familiar refrain: I’m not enough.

That phrase—and its many irritating variations—played on loop in my head for days. Paired with a level of burnout I hadn’t yet reckoned with, it became hard to imagine a future moment that wasn’t so utterly—

winter.

Have you been there, friend? Are you there now?

Winter has a way of narrowing our vision, as though we’re looking through a glass dimly—convinced that what we see is all there is. That the stillness means stagnation. That nothing else is coming.

Today I’m reminding myself that I’ve seen what comes next.

Winter sowing isn’t like direct sowing, when the ground above is already green. It isn’t like starting seeds indoors under the steady glow of grow lights and consistent cozy, safe conditions.

It’s quieter, slower—and harsher than that. It’s placing seeds into cold, unyielding circumstances and trusting that they’ll respond when conditions change.

Outside, our winter-sown seeds are doing exactly that. Nothing beautiful is visible. Nothing that will happen is rushing. And yet, the future assurance of beauty stirs quietly in the soil.

If this month has felt slow, exposed, or unfinished, that doesn’t mean nothing is happening. Much of the beauty we wait for—flowers, projects, dreams, health, moments that matter—takes shape in silence and raw exposure, long before it becomes visible.

I’m reminding myself of this, once more, today.

xx,
Mily

P.S. Scroll down to find this week’s winter sown recipe — cozy, nourishing, and perfect for the cold days ahead!

Try my cozy Coconut Leek & Kale Soup

Perfect for endlessly cold days or anytime you need a nourishing, anti-inflammatory bowl to get you through sickness. Cozy, comforting, and packed with nourishing winter sown bits from the garden.

Ingredients

• 1 whole chicken

• aromatics for the broth: 1-2 whole star anise, 3-4 whole cloves, 1 tsp turmeric, 1 tsp paprika, 1 tsp coriander, 1 tsp oregano, 2 tsp salt, 1 tsp whole peppercorn, 1 whole onion, half an apple

• 3 large leeks

• homemade broth

• 3-4 sweet potatoes

• a bunch of kale

• ½ can of full fat coconut milk

Steps

1. Place the whole chicken into a large stock pot and fill with water until completely submerged.

2. Add the aromatics, cover with a lid, and simmer for 3–4 hours.

3. Remove the chicken from the pot, pull apart the meat, and set aside.

4. Strain the broth and discard the solids. Return the broth to the pot and bring to a boil.

5. Add the cubed sweet potatoes and cook until fork-tender, about 8–12 minutes.

6. In a separate pan, sauté the finely diced leeks with salt and pepper until soft and glossy. Add them to the pot.

7. Stir in the chopped kale and cooked chicken.

8. Finish with the coconut milk, stirring gently to combine. Simmer for a few minutes until warmed through.

Enjoy cozied up with a blanket and some warm bread 🤍

If this is the first newsletter of mine you’re reading, welcome—I’m so glad you’re here.

For those who are new (and a quick refresher for everyone else): I’m Mily, and I’m passionate about winter sowing. I run a Facebook group where people learn and share about the method, and that’s most likely what brought you here.

Three years ago, my family relocated from the Midwest to western North Carolina, and we’re still building our gardens from the ground up. This newsletter is where I share that journey—building our gardens through (a lot of) winter sowing—one year at a time.

Right Now

Here in the Southeast, we’re at a key point in the winter sowing season. Because our winters are fairly mild, I’m working hard to finish sowing my perennials and native plants that need long periods of cold stratification, while continuing through the rest of my cold-loving seeds.

Where I live, the “new year” for winter sowing really starts in November, so I’ve been at it for a while but I wanted to share some varieties I’m super excited about this year.

Every year, the very first thing I winter sow are violas and pansies. They’re always among the earliest hardy annuals to bloom and make spring feel so special and nostalgic each year. We love to put them on something baked for my daughter’s birthday in May. This year, I tried a couple of new colors that I’m especially excited about.

I’ve also started a few long-stratification natives I’ve been wanting to for years but always missed the window for—Liatris and Obedient Plant. They’re going to be the loviest spikes in my gardens!

By mid-December, I’m in a winter sowing rhythm, and a good chunk of what I’ve already sown is sprouted and growing. Cilantro is almost ready for transplant!

Here’s a few more I’m excited about:

• Stock (several colors this year!)

• Cabbage (all the cabbage, multiple varieties!)

• Nigella

• Scabiosa (‘Snow Maiden’)

• Sea Holly

• Pink & Blue Chinese Forget-Me-Not

• Bee Balm, Scarlet

• Verbascum

• Sweet Peas

• Sweet William

• Snapdragons (Potomac series)

• Crespedia

• Strawflower

Your Turn

What are you winter sowing this week?
What have you started so far? I’d love to hear.

As always, let me know if you have any questions!

—Mily

So many of you have asked for my seed lists, so here they are!

My tried-and-true flowers to winter sow:

Hardy Annuals

• Atriplex

• Baby’s Breath

• Bachelor Buttons

• Balsam

• Bells of Ireland

• Bupleurum

• Campanula

• Carnations

• Chinese Forget-Me-Not

• Clarkia

• Corn Cockle

• Cupid’s Dart

• Dara

• Delphinium

• Didiscus

• Dill

• Dropmore

• Feverfew

• Foxglove

• Godetia

• Green Mist

• Honeywort

• Iceland Poppies

• Lambada

• Larkspur

• Lavatera

• Linaria

• Nigella

• Orlaya

• Ornamental Kale

• Pansy

• Phlox

• Poppies

• Pot Marigold

• Queen Anne’s Lace

• Salvia

• Scabiosa

• Snapdragons

• Statice

• Stock

• Strawflower

• Sweet Annie

• Sweet Peas

• Sweet William

• Throatwort

• Viola

Natives (North American)

• Anise Hyssop (Agastache foeniculum)

• Bee Balm (Monarda spp.)

• Black-Eyed Susan (Rudbeckia spp.)

• Blazing Star (Liatris spicata)

• Boneset (Eupatorium perfoliatum)

• Butterfly Weed (Asclepias tuberosa)

• Cardinal Flower (Lobelia cardinalis)

• Columbine (Aquilegia canadensis)

• Compass Plant (Silphium laciniatum)

• Coreopsis (Coreopsis spp.)

• Culver’s Root (Veronicastrum virginicum)

• Cup Plant (Silphium perfoliatum)

• Echinacea (Purple Coneflower)

• Foxglove Beardtongue (Penstemon cobaea)

• Goldenrod (Solidago spp.)

• Helianthus (Helianthus spp.)

• Ironweed (Vernonia noveboracensis)

• Joe-Pye Weed (Eutrochium purpureum)

• Lacy Phacelia (Phacelia tanacetifolia)

• Liatris (Liatris spp.)

• Lupine (Lupinus perennis)

• Milkweed (Asclepias spp.)

• Mountain Mint (Pycnanthemum spp.)

• Aster (Symphyotrichum spp.)

• New Jersey Tea (Ceanothus americanus)

• Obedient Plant (Physostegia virginiana)

• Phlox (Phlox spp.)

• Rattlesnake Master (Eryngium yuccifolium)

• Smooth Penstemon (Penstemon digitalis)

• Spiderwort (Tradescantia spp.)

• Virginia Bluebells (Mertensia virginica)

• Wild Bergamot (Monarda fistulosa)

• Wild Blue Indigo (Baptisia australis)

• Wild Ginger (Asarum canadense)

• Wild Strawberry (Fragaria vesca)

• Yarrow (Achillea millefolium)

Perennials & Biennials

• Bee balm (Monarda didyma)

• Bellflower (Campanula spp.)

• Blanket flower (Gaillardia × grandiflora)

• Blue cap sea holly (Eryngium planum ‘Blue Cap’)

• Campanula (Campanula spp.)

• Campion (Silene spp.)

• Catmint (Nepeta × faassenii)

• Catananche (Catananche caerulea)

• Columbine (Aquilegia spp.)

• Coral Bells (Heuchera spp.)

• Delphinium (Delphinium spp.)

• Echinacea (Echinacea purpurea)

• Evening primrose (Oenothera biennis)

• Feverfew (Tanacetum parthenium)

• Foxglove (Digitalis purpurea)

• Gaillardia (Gaillardia aristata)

• Globe thistle (Echinops ritro)

• Helenium (Helenium autumnale)

• Hollyhock (Alcea rosea)

• Iceland Poppy (Papaver nudicaule)

• Lavender (Lavandula angustifolia)

• Lupine (Lupinus spp.)

• Maltese cross (Lychnis chalcedonica)

• Painted daisy (Tanacetum coccineum)

• Penstemon (Penstemon spp.)

• Perennial Flax (Linum perenne)

• Rudbeckia (Rudbeckia hirta)

• Russian sage (Perovskia atriplicifolia)

• Salvia (Salvia nemorosa or Salvia spp.)

• Sea holly (Eryngium spp.)

• Sedum (Sedum spectabile or Hylotelephium spp.)

• Shasta Daisy (Leucanthemum × superbum)

• Silene (Silene spp.)

• Tickseed (Coreopsis spp.)

• Verbascum (Verbascum spp.)

• Veronica (Veronica spicata)

• Yarrow (Achillea millefolium)

Happy Winter Sowing!

-Emily

Don’t forget to use my discount code through Prairie Moon Nursery! (code: JUGSOW10)

We officially had our first frost since I last wrote—and here in the Southeast, that means it’s go-time for winter sowing.

Hi, and welcome.

A heartfelt thank you to everyone who shared in my Instagram launch last month. I’m so excited to finally be sharing video content for winter sowing and it’s been so special seeing some of your faces over there!

There are so many new readers this month—and many of you have shared you are new to winter sowing! I’m so glad you’re here—you came at the perfect time.

Ever since I started winter sowing, I’ve had a burning passion to share this method with everyone around me. It has brought me immense joy over the years and—quite honestly—winter sowing has changed my life. I’m always looking for ways to pass that joy on to others.

For a few years now, I’ve been dreaming up something special… and it’s finally coming to life.

Introducing: The Jug Sowing Starter Kit

This kit is everything I wish I’d had when I was a beginner. I’ve thoughtfully curated this kit to help those new to the winter sowing method take their very first steps.

If, like me, you can’t resist sharing the magic of winter sowing with friends and family, this is the perfect gift to do just that.

A little sneak peek at what’s inside:

• A beautifully illustrated, postcard-style instruction card (full-color, step-by-step, and truly beginner-friendly)

• Six carefully chosen seed varieties (including a bonus pack from my garden) that create a balanced, pollinator-friendly, and edible garden.

The Jug Sowing Starter Kit is available now! If you want one for yourself or if you want to gift the joy of winter sowing to someone you love, head on over to jugsow.com!

Thank you for being here, for planting seeds with me, and for letting me share this little green corner of the internet with you.

As always, please let me know if you have any questions as you get started, and I’d love to hear what you’re planning to winter sow this year!

Happy Frostmas!

Emily

Hi friend,

Gosh, it’s been a minute since I’ve written to you and it’s giving me that feeling I get in the spring when I come to terms with having to transplant seedlings from 150 jugs.

Over the past month, I’ve had so many new subscribers flocking to this little corner of the internet, and my heart is exploding. I cannot wait to share stories from my winter sown gardens with every single one of you—and also share in the joys of your journey as well.

The truth is, I had a baby in July. Between that and a postpartum fog thicker than pea-soup mulch, my brain and my time in the garden both took a nap. Third baby—who knew the fog could hit harder each time?

The good news? The fog is lifting. The marathon feedings around the clock are (slowly) turning into longer stretches of rest, and I’m itching to dig back into this space—and a brand-new one I’m so excited to tell you about.

Quick backstory & where we’re headed

A few winters ago I started a tiny Facebook group to share my joy of winter sowing with others who were just beginning their journey. In a blink it went from a cozy 300-member garden club to over 100k members. I was thrilled… and slightly overwhelmed. This newsletter turned out to be the best way for me to communicate lots of information to a lot of people, very quickly.

I’ll always show up in the FB group (I promise!), but most of what I write on there isn’t seen by my members. I’ll be the first to admit, the FB group can feel like the wild west at times (especially Nov thru May). While I want to serve my group members by providing an encouraging community-centered space for learning, I don’t always feel equipped (by FB) to get meaningful content to those searching for it.

That’s why I’m finally launching on Instagram—so that my photos, videos, and passion for winter sowing can bloom without fighting an algorithm.

What you’ll find on my new Instagram adventure

• A front-row seat to the journey and transformation of my winter sown gardens

• Hard-won lessons from years of epic wins and valuable flops

• Bite-sized, shareable education you can forward to your skeptical neighbor

• Artful videos & tutorials—because watching someone cut and tape milk jugs in the name of gardening is pure therapy, right?

Here’s where YOU come in

It would encourage my heart so much if you’d follow along there and grow with me. If you’re here for the journey, the tips, and the lifestyle that is winter sowing, please hit that follow button right now.

🌱 @jug.sow – tap or search to follow

As a thank you for your support, the first 50 people who follow + DM me “Newsletter!” will get tossed into a hat to receive a gift from me (and an exclusive sneak peek into what’s coming in Pt. 2) to kick off your winter sowing this season. If you get a friend to follow as well, your name gets entered twice—just include that person’s handle in the DM! Drawing happens on Monday evening—so don’t sleep on it!

Can’t wait to see your handle in my follower list and your seedlings in my DMs this coming spring.

P.S. Reply to this email or drop a comment with any questions you have going into this winter sowing season — I always love your personal notes and I’m here to help, encourage, and share in this journey with you.

-Emily

Since walking to those gardens and portaging snacks (plus children) go hand-in-hand, I usually opt for the 30-second drive—but on this particular day, we walked.

This is technically my third spring here in western North Carolina—but the first was really a blur since we had just moved across the country. What I do recall clearly from those first two years is the early heat. This third spring here has been very gentle. We’ve been enjoying our walks down to the gardens recently, and I’m cherishing this pleasant spring before the heat is here to stay.

As I mentioned in my last post, I’ve been discovering which things I won’t have to start again each year in this new climate and growing space. No surprise—chamomile being one of them.

I regularly drink chamomile tea, so I was very excited to see so much of it popping up this winter in the areas I had let it go to seed.

After years of growing chamomile, I’ve learned that for various reasons, it’s best to begin harvesting it as soon as it starts to bloom. I’ve found that prolonged intense heat (aka summer in the southeast) makes it prone to dieback, even early in the season. It also grows tall and unruly fairly quickly, and with its fragile stems, it can get leveled by a single heavy rain. With it blooming for a couple of weeks now, it’s been prime time for harvesting.

Signs chamomile is ready to harvest:

• The yellow center should be raised and dome-shaped

• Petals are white and fully extended

• Flowers have a strong, sweet apple-like scent

Tips for harvesting chamomile:

• Harvest in the morning after the dew has dried but before the heat of the day

• Pick flowers when they’re fully open—petals should be flat or slightly reflexed

• Harvest every few days during peak bloom for continuous production

• Use a large basket and keep it close

• Pinch a few off at a time and then dump into basket

• Pinch or snip just below the flower head, leaving the stem and foliage

• Harvest regularly to encourage more blooms

In the past, I haven’t enjoyed harvesting chamomile because of how time consuming it can be over multiple weeks—at least to dry enough for winter. But the kids are apparently in their chamomile-harvesting era, so it’s becoming a sweet rhythm for us.

With the extra help on this particular day, I ignored pressing tasks and let myself enjoy being in the garden. Do you know the distinct popping noise of harvesting chamomile (with distant birds singing in the background)? Those sounds and the sweet aroma of chamomile in bloom might be as calming as a cup of tea.

Since harvesting last week, hail and flooding from heavy rains have left their mark on some areas of the gardens—most of the chamomile has toppled over. I’m so glad we got a solid week of harvesting in because much of it needs tidying up. Still, in its unkempt state, my six-year-old eagerly runs through the woods to make fresh chamomile and spearmint tea for us in the afternoon—and that’s definitely been one of the sweetest parts of our days.

What are your favorite herbs to use fresh for tea during the growing season? We consume a lot of tea in our family but it’s almost exclusively from dried herbs. We also love to infuse water with fresh herbs during the summer, but tea just hits different! I’m trying to get into a rhythm of regularly drinking tea made with fresh herbs from the tea garden. Would love to hear some of your favorites!

Hoping that wherever you’re at in your growing season, you’ve been able to take some time to simply enjoy what’s growing in the garden.

More from the garden, soon.

-Emily

Tips for Drying Chamomile:

• Spread flowers in a single layer on a screen, basket, or clean cloth

• Dry in a warm, well-ventilated area out of direct sunlight

• They’re fully dry when the petals feel papery and crumble easily (usually 1-2 weeks)

• Store in an airtight container away from light

Since moving to the southeast, I’ve stopped the practice of wishing away winter. After living in the midwest my entire life and experiencing the harsh realities that winter can be, winter here feels pleasant—like an eternal spring with no allergies. In this new climate, the winter months can certainly be a time to slow down. But as a gardener—and especially in these years of establishing new growing spaces—it is a season for hard work and getting the garden ready for the long growing season ahead. Still, while the winters here are not marked by idleness, this time of year feels like the end of a season of waiting, and it’s something I look forward to with so much anticipation.

Here in western North Carolina, we’ve been free from frost for almost a month now. While transplanting begins in February with things that are hardy, last month brought the joy of getting those first tender seedlings in the ground. The snapdragons are in full bloom; the herb gardens are already putting off their aromatic presence; the self-seeded phlox (and chamomile, rudbeckia, amaranth, and more) have let me know they won’t ever be leaving my gardens; and the second-year perennials have burst forth with new life. While the bugs haven’t come with a vengeance quite yet and the milk jug aesthetic will still be present in the corners of the gardens for at least a few more weeks, all the brown has turned to green and we are very much in the growing season.

While that is all true, this year has been different. It has been the most difficult year I’ve had making the transition from jug to ground. While last year was a big year—starting entirely from scratch after moving across the country—I decided to make it even harder on myself this year, and essentially start over again (thanks Pinterest).

Pressure from the garden is compounded by the normal day-to-day tasks (namely: figuring out what meal to cook next). My hands are full with life as a mom of littles with days that are overflowing with all the magic and sheer chaos that is this season of my life. That and probably the fact that once again, I said I would be super chill this year—yet it’s a slippery slope from super chill to 130 milk jugs scattered about. If I’m completely honest with myself (and you), I feel a sense of overwhelm and defeat—and I just got my tomatoes in the ground.

At this point in the growing season, the focus has shifted completely from germination excitement to the daily anxiety about whether I have what it takes to get things in the ground before their roots completely stress out and the heat takes over. That and dealing with cut worms. (If you can’t relate to any of this, you aren’t winter sowing in the southeast.) If you want to know the real pressure I’m under, I have about 50 more jugs to deal with—some threatening to bloom and produce fruit.

As I’ve been trying to manage the milk jug chaos amidst new garden plans, I’ve had to remind myself to take deep breaths and refocus on what’s actually important. Meanwhile, I’ve also been walking alongside a close friend who is newer to gardening and asking all the same questions I once did. Our conversations have caused me, on multiple occasions, to think back to my extremely humble beginnings (in other words, I knew nothing) as a gardener, and more specifically, to how I got into winter sowing and what that did for my life.

Where it all started

Many of you are here because some channel of the internet led you to one of my guides on winter sowing. Similarly, lots of you are here because you’re part of my winter sowing facebook group. If you’re engaged there, you probably know that I start hundreds of seeds in milk jugs each year and plant massive gardens (that are far too big for one person to care for). But something you probably don’t know is that, for most of my life, I’ve been terrified of touching dirt.

Gardening aside, everyone comes into contact with dirt at least once in their childhood (to be a child is to touch dirt, right?). I’ll start by saying that although my family was not into gardening beyond filling pots with Home Depot plants on Mother’s Day, for the first decade of my life, my interactions with dirt probably looked fairly standard for a kid. Somewhere along the way, when I did inevitably touch dirt, anxiety consumed my thoughts for days after. I would think about who would show up to my funeral and what things they would say about me. I would check my temperature and apply topical antibiotics to any questionable cracks in my skin while casually ruminating on how it would feel to die—and all the existential anxieties that come with that. While the intensity of those anxiety responses to touching dirt lessened over my life, for nearly two decades, I believed that dirt, if touched, was going to hurt me—at best—or kill me. It took the act of scooping dirt into a milk jug for me to begin to accept that very low probability for my life.

Before you start diagnosing a possible mental health condition that drove this, let me just state that this fear—though admittedly very irrational—did stem from an experience I had when I was young.

My mom got sick with a life-threatening MRSA infection. I remember how she looked ill with the flu. I remember the wound that went from a small paper cut to a gaping crevasse within 24 hours. I remember her thumb that appeared two times its normal size (or at least that’s how my adolescent-sized brain processed it). I remember the red line running up her arm. I remember she was in and out of the hospital. I remember her struggle with nerve pain and the difficulty she had regaining mobility in her hand. I was brought along to one of her physical therapy sessions, and saw the wound get drained and scraped with a knife—I remember feeling like I was going to faint as I watched.

How did she get MRSA? Well, she planted flowers into my bedroom window box. Or at least that’s how the story has been told.

Whether or not that’s actually true about how the infection started is irrelevant. The point is, from this experience I formed some beliefs. These beliefs developed into a fear that kept me from considering gardening as a thing that could be for me. It also led to a hand-washing obsession, and secret stashes of Neosporin and bandages always at arm’s reach. This particular little irrational fear persisted from my adolescence well into my twenties before any sort of a mindset shift began to take hold—that was, until someone told me I could set a milk jug with dirt and seeds in it outside, neglect it for months, and flowers would show up in the spring. Gardening never seemed so easy—or less scary.

OK, so the fear was still there when I first discovered winter sowing, but slowly I began to mute that fear by accepting a new belief.

Aside from my dirt fear, I was one of those classic examples of people who assumed they couldn’t keep a plant alive if they tried. Gardening was out of the question. At the same time, I found no issue believing that I could grow a plant in a severed and taped milk jug, simply because someone told me I could, with a smile on their face…and soil-stained hands.

This little belief—that I could get a seed to sprout in a plastic container that used to hold milk—was the thing that would begin to wreck my fear and make me the gardener I am today (who obsesses over a well-aged pile of compost).

Something else happened

While the origin story of my fear of dirt is not something I consider to be substantial in shaping who I am overall, it was accompanied by more significant life experiences that went beyond a fear of touching dirt and windowsills. While that fear had effortlessly dissipated when I first began sowing seeds in milk jugs in the bleak midwinter, something else happened for me as well.

Before I discovered winter sowing, I was a different person. I had debilitating anxiety that essentially ran my life. I spent much of my twenties arduously working (going to talk therapy and EMDR) through traumas that had swallowed me up as a child and spat me out as an adult that struggled deeply on emotional levels. While I had some revelatory moments going to therapy, as a whole, I don’t know that it was very helpful for me. While I am a passionate advocate of going to therapy (I’m all about truthfully facing your past and talking through how that affected you with a safe person), for me, I think therapy made it all worse at times—and not in the first-worse-then-better kind of way. Even with all the years of work I was doing to face my past experiences and pursue healing in a therapy setting, it was still very difficult for me to engage with life in a hopeful way. My tendency was to look to the next day with anxiety and make mental lists of everything that was going to go wrong. While I may have appeared to be a highly functional and “normal” person—to some—graduating college; leading teams at work; getting promotions; traveling; starting a family and so on, my internal experience told a different story. For so much of my life, and for most of my twenties, I felt like I only had enough physical and emotional energy for the next hour. Beyond that, I didn’t know what my body or mind could handle and I felt like I was going to be crushed.

I truly mean this: starting seeds in milk jugs was the pivotal turning point for this way of experiencing life. Almost immediately—upon hand-to-soil contact—I felt the transformation from a person who was primarily driven by fear and limited self-worth, to someone who looks forward with hope, makes plans, and isn’t (as) afraid to get their hands dirty. Learning to winter sow so drastically changed my outlook on myself and life in more ways than I could begin to unpack here.

So, why am I telling this story and why have I been recalling all this recently? Because—and sorry for the cliché—as I currently face a season of unknowns and overwhelm (not just in my garden), I am gently forcing myself to remember what winter sowing taught me about my connectedness to the seasons of life. I’m reminded that winter doesn’t last forever, hard circumstances won’t crush me (okay they might, but like a hardy perennial, while I might die back completely my roots will go undamaged), and the decisions and resolves I make now—though hard—can be connected to a beautiful and fruitful future.

I winter sow because it’s one thing that keeps me going—in all of life. It connects me to each season of life, and reminds me that even if I sow the seeds at the right time; give them the best soil possible; care for the seedlings; and set the planting schedule, a cut worm might take my precious tomato out; my toddler might end up sitting on a jug and crushing its contents; or my most precious perennial that required 60 days of cold stratification might die in their opened jug because I couldn’t get out to keep them watered before getting them in the ground. And that’s all okay.

What was your journey into gardening? Was it as dramatic as mine? I’d love to hear below in the comments!

*Please enjoy a few more photos below of what’s been waking up in the gardens :)

Thanks for following along! I’m so grateful you’re here.

-Emily

I live in a sweet little town on the western side of North Carolina, nestled in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains. If you’ve never been to this magical little corner of the US, it’s a little like if the Shire and Rivendell were to have a baby. For countless generations, the southern Appalachian region has been a place filled with people that simply love life, love their community, and love this beautiful place.

Right now, my town and the surrounding areas are facing devastation that is incredibly hard to put into words.

When someone asks me what it’s like here right now, one way I’ve answered that question is by explaining that it looks like multiple bombs went off. When someone asks how I’m doing since Hurricane Helene hit, in one sense, I feel that is an easy question to answer—in another, I feel empty trying to find the words. It’s true, the answer to that question is simple: I am doing far better than so many around me. I still have a home. Everyone in my family is accounted for. I have water. I have food. I have power. How else could I answer that question apart from the very truth that, I am doing very well.

But when you peel back the layers, there is more to the truth—the truth that I am not okay. Overstimulated with the site of trauma and loss, I find myself asking multiple versions of the same question—why? Buried beneath everything my mind is trying to process, there’s a familiar feeling that makes me want to go to sleep—grief.

I will tell you the truth: the loss here is more overwhelming than you could possibly imagine and there is a bitter suffering that is making a home in the mountains.

When time stopped

Over the last thirteen days, time has felt like an insignificant item I forgot about on my to-do list from a month ago. I didn’t know it then, but when I started to hear the sounds of trees crashing around our home and we eventually lost power, my sense of time stopped. The only thing that mattered, was the next moment.

Finding the present again

While Helene was very hungry for my garden, and it mostly looks like a tangled mess of okra and zinnias right now, when I walked through my garden this week I saw something that stopped me—and it did so by taking me back to a moment in the dark and cold of winter earlier this year. There, before me, was a winter sown coneflower that was not only blooming with all the vibrance and joy that coneflowers do, but it was also providing food for others. This coneflower was the one thing that stood out in this little corner of my garden that hasn’t already passed its prime and wasn’t destroyed by the winds and floods.

As an aspiring herbalist, and total flower nerd, I know that echinacea is a symbol of strength and a source of healing. When I stood there looking at my strong little coneflower, I thought of a word that has been across my mind for many days now—mend. And while the site of this beautiful, wound-mending, and oh-so-resilient native coneflower stopped me, it reminded me that the seeds you sow in the darkest seasons can bring about a beauty that heals. I want to be a coneflower.

Spreading seeds of hope, together

After about a week of processing all that has happened around us, my husband and I sat down and asked ourselves what we could do. One question we’ve gotten over and over from our friends and family in various places around the county, is “what can I do?” As we sought to answer this question, we went on a journey of finding out who is doing some of the best work here right now, especially in the areas that were the hit the worst. Instead of making a simple list, we decided to build a space to help others learn how they can help.

How you can be a coneflower to the people of western North Carolina

1. Visit mendwnc.com to learn about how you can support those in western North Carolina affected by Hurricane Helene

2. Share this website with others

Even if you are not able to give to the organizations that are here on the ground, sharing and following our website will help us spread awareness even further on how others can help.

Let’s sow seeds of hope, together.

Some of the most nostalgic memories from my childhood are from the moments I was able to run freely through meadows and—with magnifying glass in hand—across boardwalks at the bog. I still vividly remember the sound of the low hum of the pollinators, the radiance of the sun on my shoulders, the warm and comforting smells that greeted me at every turn, and the familiar sight of native plants growing wild and free.

Get $5 off Now–March 31, at Prairie Moon Nursery with Code: WINTERSOW

Native plants are the species of plants that have co-evolved with the ecosystem of a particular area. Because of this, native plants, insects, and wildlife are profoundly reliant on one another. Aside from the beauty and joy that comes from growing your own native plants, they also provide many benefits:

• Native plants provide essential food and shelter for pollinators, beneficial insects, birds, and other wildlife

• Native plants keep the air clean and improve water quality

• Native plants help repair and sustain healthy soil

• Native plants out-compete invasive species

By growing native plants, not only will you be adding beautiful low maintenance plants to your garden, but you will also have an impact on sustaining the ecosystem surrounding you.

Understanding native plant seeds

In order to survive the elements and periodic climate conditions that aren’t suitable for sustaining the life of a native plant, many native plant seeds have innate mechanisms for remaining dormant until growing conditions are right. While this built-in mechanism is absolutely vital to the sustainability of native plants, it can make the process of starting them from seed feel a bit daunting to the home gardener.

Breaking dormancy

So you might be asking, what are these built-in dormancy mechanisms, and what is required in order to break this period of dormancy?

Many native plant seeds require a period of cold, moist conditions (cold stratification) to break physiological dormancy and signal that winter has passed. The completion of this cool-moist period is what signals germination at the best time to ensure survival.

Cold stratification is the process of exposing these seeds to the conditions they need in order to bring about germination. Many gardeners use artificial cold stratification to simulate what happens in nature. While this can be highly effective, some find this process to be a bit tedious and high maintenance. Winter sowing provides a better way—nature’s way!

Winter sowing: the best way to grow your native plants

Winter sowing is an easy and economical seed starting method. In this method, plastic containers (like milk jugs) are used to create mini greenhouses for seeds to germinate and grow outside before the last frost date.

When used at the proper time, the winter sowing method essentially models the same pattern seeds take in nature. That is, scattered on the ground—then entering a state of dormancy with cold temperatures, followed by a freeze-thaw cycle. When conditions are right, germination occurs and seeds develop into robust seedlings that are already acclimated to the outside elements.

The most important thing to take into account when using this method for growing native plants is how many days of cold stratification are needed for the plant you intend to grow. Your native plant seeds will need to be winter sown within a time frame long enough to expose them to cold for the length of days required, specific to that seed. I like to winter sow my natives around winter solstice—as this provides my native seeds the largest window of opportunity for cold stratification to occur. When the time is right, seeds sown this way will effectively break dormancy with very high germination rates.

The reason winter sowing your native seeds results in such high germination rates is because not only does this method mimic the process that occurs in nature, but there is also an added element of protection both before and after germination has occurred.

Avoiding harmful cultivars

Not all plants labeled “native” are true to their wild type— these are sometimes referred to as cultivars. Often, cultivars are nursery bred and the appeal is garden aesthetics. Cultivars lack genetic diversity that is vital for adapting to region specific environmental conditions. Because of this, cultivars often don’t thrive as well as their wild type, and cross breeding may also occur. Cross breeding of native species with cultivars (resulting in hybrids) opens up the threat of extinction to their wild type and poses an even greater threat to our ecosystem at large. Growing natives that are true to their wild type offers the most benefit to the home garden and preserves our ecosystem.

So how do we avoid these cultivars? Use botanical names, and buy from reputable sources.

Sourcing seeds

So much of what I’ve learned about native plants of North America has come through the education and resources provided by Prairie Moon Nursery. As one of the leading sources for education on native plants of North America, Prairie Moon Nursery is a great place to source native seeds. They offer seeds for over 700 species in their wild type and have made growing information incredibly accessible to the home gardener.

Their website has a very user friendly filter engine that can help you find exactly what will thrive in your garden. They even have a filter based on cold stratification requirements which is why they are my go-to for winter sowing!

Scroll down to see a list of some of my favorites!

Where to start

A simple rule for understanding which native plants will do best when using the winter sowing method is this: if the plant species is native to your state—in other words, if it’s origin is local and therefore grows naturally in your area—it can be winter sown.

Native plants grow best and provide the most benefits when they are grown in the specific areas they were first established. Below are some great candidates for winter sowing categorized by their native range.

Filtering your search using your state will give you even more to choose from! This list is made up of seeds that only require 10-30 days of cold stratification—making them a great option if you’ve already missed the larger windows for cold stratification.

Midwest

• Anise Hyssop - Agastache foeniculum

• Blue Wild Indigo - Baptisia australis

• Black-eyed Susan - Rudbeckia hirta

• Joe Pye Weed - Eutrochium maculatum

Northeast

• Common Milkweed - Asclepias syriaca

• Blue Wild Indigo - Baptisia australis

• Black-eyed Susan - Rudbeckia hirta

• Brown-eyed Susan - Rudbeckia triloba

South

• Rose Milkweed - Asclepias incarnata

• Sundial Lupine - Lupinus perennis subsp. perennis

• Yellow coneflower - Ratibida pinnata

Great Plains

• Blue Vervain - Verbena hastata

• False Indigo - Amorpha fruticosa

• Lead Plant - Amorpha canescens

• Rose Milkweed - Asclepias incarnata

West

• Showy Milkweed - Asclepias speciosa

• Black-eyed Susan - Rudbeckia hirta

• Blue Vervain - Verbena hastata

• Large-Flowered Water Plantain - Alisma triviale

  

Winter Sowing Native Plants FAQ

Can I winter sow any native plant of North America?

Native plants specific to your state will be the easiest to grow and provide the most benefit to your garden. But any North American native plant can be grown provided it has the right conditions. If you do choose a plant from outside your range, you may need to use artificial means for cold stratification.

Some native plants require double dormancy (two cold periods with a warm/moist period in between). These types of seeds are not ideal for the winter sowing method.

When should I winter sow seeds for my native plants?

Native plant seeds come in a wide range of germination requirements. Some need several months of sustained near-freezing temperatures while others might only require around a week of cold temperatures. The key to successfully winter sowing native plant seeds is starting them at a point where you know there will be more than enough time for them to be exposed to the length of days required in the cold.

The best thing you can do to know when to winter sow your native seeds is to learn the germination requirements for the specific plant you are growing. As a best practice and for a low maintenance approach, I winter sow all of my natives around winter solstice — this way I know they’ll get what they need, even if it’s just ten days of exposure to cold. After that cold period is provided, they will germinate when the time is right.

It’s almost March and I’m not sure if I’ll have enough time to winter sow my seeds that need 30 days of cold stratification. Can I artificially cold stratify my seeds and then sow them in jugs?

Yes! Here you can find helpful resources for artificial cold stratification.

Are you convinced?

Will you be growing native plants this year? Will you winter sow them? I’d love to hear which species you have grown in the past and which ones you are winter sowing this year!

If you’ve read through my guide on when to start winter sowing, you know that I’m a broken record when it comes to winter sowing within certain windows. While knowing your zone can be helpful when it comes to choosing which perennials to grow in your garden, understanding your climate and knowing your last frost date are where you want to primarily shift your focus when it comes to winter sowing.

What are USDA hardiness zones and what do they tell you?

The U.S. Department of Agriculture takes data from roughly a 30-year period to determine average extreme minimum temperatures across the US and then categorizes this data into 13 zones based on 10 degree differences.

One very specific piece of information this data provides is which plants are hardy to certain zones. In other words, knowing your zone helps you know which plants are perennial where you live, and are therefore most likely to thrive and overwinter. That is really the extent of the usefulness of zone awareness.

What this data doesn’t tell you are things like:

• How many days you experience that minimum low temperature

• What climate or region you are a part of

• If you happen to be in a microclimate within your zone

• How close you are to the other states within your zone

• Your first and last frost date

• How warm your winters are

• How hot your summers are

Generalizations

With USDA hardiness zones, we are able to make some generalizations. These generalizations being:

• Toward the lower end of the hardiness zones (toward zone 1), winters tend to be colder

• Toward the higher end of the hardiness zones (toward zone 13), winters tend to be warmer

So what do zones have to do with winter sowing?

Apart from choosing your perennial seeds based on the intention of overwintering, zones are essentially irrelevant to winter sowing.

Winter sowing made simple:

There are two windows for winter sowing:

1. When the weather in your area becomes consistently cold

2. The weeks leading up to your last frost date

When the weather in your area becomes consistently cold

This window is for anything requiring cold stratification (like native plants and perennials) followed by cool season vegetables, herbs, and hardy annuals.

This window extends to the start of the second window, and many seeds from this window can still continue to be winter sown at the start of the second window.

The weeks leading up to your last frost date

This window is for your tender annuals; anything that is frost sensitive—including seeds for your warm season vegetable and herb garden.

Were you helped by this? What questions do you still have about zones or when to start winter sowing? I’d love to hear!

What is winter sowing?

Winter sowing is an easy and economical seed starting method. In this method, recycled plastic containers are used to create mini-greenhouses for seeds to germinate and develop into robust seedlings. By using the winter sowing method, seedlings not only get an early start, but when the time comes for transplanting, they will already be acclimated to the outside elements and won’t require hardening off.

What winter sowing is not

For the purpose of this guide, when the term ‘winter sowing’ is used, it does not refer things like casting seeds on the ground in the winter or starting seeds in cold frames, tunnels or a framed greenhouse. While all of these alternative methods are great ways to start seeds, the method laid out here is exclusive to the process of creating miniature greenhouses from recycled plastic that work with all the elements that come with winter.

Sowing seeds when it’s still cold: when to start winter sowing

The best way to think about when to start winter sowing, is to think not in terms of sowing on a specific date, but within a window of time. There are two main windows for winter sowing.

First window

Group 1 seeds, followed by group 2 leading up to the second window

When the weather in your area becomes consistently cold — typically around winter solstice

Second window

Group 2 & 3 seeds

The final weeks leading up to your last frost date

The 3 categories of what to winter sow

• Group 1 seeds - native plants and perennials that require cold stratification

• Group 2 seeds - hardy annual flowers, cold weather crops, hardy herbs, native plants and perennials that germinate in cooler temperatures but don’t require long periods of cold stratification

• Group 3 seeds - tender annuals that need warmer temperatures to germinate: warm season vegetables, annual flowers, tender herbs

These categories are ordered based on timing of when to winter sow. Generally, if you winter sow the right groups of viable seeds in their corresponding windows, you should expect really great results.

In summary, finding the right window of time to winter sow is largely determined by these three things:

1. What type of seed you are sowing

2. When your winter becomes consistently cold

3. Your last frost date

Are there things you can’t winter sow?

Before diving into unpacking these windows for sowing, it’s helpful to keep in mind that there are some things that you should avoid starting using this method, but determining which things work best with this method and which don’t is not complicated.

If you’re new at gardening or this is your first (or even second) year winter sowing, it can feel overwhelming knowing when to start and what to winter sow. The good news is that, most likely, the things you are wanting to add to your annual and perennial gardens can be winter sown.

One of the simplest ways to determine if something can or can’t be winter sown is to consider how easy it is to find its seeds on the internet. If you’re running into issues finding the seed for what you’re wanting to grow, the reason might be because propagation via seed is not the ideal method for starting that plant—therefore, it most likely would not be an ideal candidate (or the most easy) for winter sowing. If you’ve found the seed you’re looking for, but it’s on the more expensive side, that’s also another indicator that there might be reasons it would not be a good candidate for winter sowing.

If you’ve easily found the seeds for what you’re wanting to grow, they’re most likely begging to be winter sown.

Things you will want to avoid starting with the winter sowing method:

• asparagus crowns

• corms

• cover crops

• fruit trees

• grains

• root crops

• shrubs

• some alliums

• tuber crops

There are things you can’t effectively winter sow. These are things like:

• garlic

• spring flowering bulbs

• seeds that require double dormancy or take multiple years germinate

Understanding the windows for winter sowing

First window: when the weather in your area becomes consistently cold (group 1 seeds)

One distinct characteristic about many native plants (and many perennials as well) is that after producing seed, the seeds remain dormant—meaning, they won’t germinate. In order to break dormancy, certain conditions have to be met. When used at the right time, the winter sowing method provides the perfect conditions for seeds that require it, to be exposed to a period of cold moist stratification, and as a result, effectively break dormancy.

When you think about the first window for winter sowing, think dead of winter. This first window typically starts around winter solstice and—for some seeds—continues through to the entire length of the second window. The number of days required for cold stratification is what determines how large your window to sow seeds from this group is. What you’re aiming for with this window is to winter sow seeds from group 1 either just before and/or throughout the coldest parts of your winter, allowing them enough time to complete their stratification requirements. This will vary from seed to seed.

Are you wondering if your winter is cold enough? As long as you choose seeds native to your region and start them in this window—even if your days swing well above freezing, they will still achieve cold stratification.

Because we’re talking about the idea of windows for sowing, these time frames for winter sowing—while fairly lengthy—can be missed. In other words, at some point, the window can and will close. For example, if you’re wanting to start seeds for a plant that requires 90 days of cold stratification, and you don’t get to them until March—apart from areas with very late last frost dates—you most likely will have missed that window for the year, for that specific seed.

To learn more about winter sowing seeds that require periods of cold stratification, visit my guide on winter sowing native plants.

Group 2 seeds in the first window

Whenever I get to it, toward the middle to end of the first window, I like to begin starting group 2 seeds. You can absolutely wait to start these seeds until the start of the second window—and you can also start them earlier—but I personally like to get these seeds out somewhere mid to end of the first window for a couple reasons. Firstly, because seeds from this group are hardy enough to take freezing or below-freezing temperatures without special care. In fact, seeds from this group benefit from colder temperatures at the start. Many plants from this group of seeds, if well established, I will transplant before the last frost date. Secondly, they’ll have a longer chance to establish and grow before transplant—this means earlier blooms and harvests.

The reason I personally wait a bit, and don’t start seeds from this group with my natives at winter solstice, is because I am winter sowing in a climate with milder winters. It’s not uncommon for my ‘dead of winter’ to experience days in the 50s and 60s, and nights that drop into the twenties or even teens. By waiting, I avoid unnecessary chances of killing temperatures that could effect early germination—which is entirely possible based on my experience winter sowing in the southeast. Hypothetically, it would also be really easy to miss germination during this time, and then if the seedlings end up being killed, come spring, you might be wondering why those jugs were a dud.

When I was winter sowing in a climate with very cold winters, it really didn’t matter if I put these seeds out with my natives; they weren’t going to do anything until after those initial thaw cycles begin closer toward the second window. If you’re in an area with a climate like mine, or in an area that seems like springs are getting warmer, and winters are becoming milder, but you’re still experiencing really harsh cold nights, you might consider waiting like I do.

Second window: the final weeks leading up to your last frost date (seeds for group 2 and 3)

The second window for winter sowing is both for group 2 and group 3 seeds. Again, there may still be time to winter sow seeds from group 1 in this window, but it’s important to make sure there are enough days left in order to fulfill the necessary length of cold stratification. If temperatures are still consistently fluctuating back to freezing or (ideally) below freezing, and you’re still a significant ways out from your last frost date (at least as many days as are required for cold stratification) then it’s typically not too late.

The easiest way to find the start of this window (that is, the earliest I would recommend starting seeds from group 3), is to count back 6 to 8 weeks from your last frost date. Whatever date (or week) you get at that point is a good time to start (if you haven’t already) seeds from group 2.

This window is also the time to start anything that is frost sensitive (group 3 seeds). The key here is to try not to start them too soon. Annual plants have two main jobs each season: to flower and set seed—annual plants are fast growing. With fast growth being in their nature, starting them too soon can lead to problems. In the climate I’m winter sowing, where we have springs with very warm days, I try to tame my spring exuberance as best I can and hold off until about 6 weeks before my last frost date. The reality is, even at six weeks, that can sometimes be too early to start some tender annuals if you’re in a climate with a mild winter. Some things that come to mind are things like zinnias and sunflowers. These are absolutely wonderful candidates for winter sowing, and you’ll get earlier blooms if you choose to winter sow them, but they also tend to grow very fast if days are warm, and crowded jugs can become an issue.

I’ve winter sown in two very different climates. I’ve found that for things that take longer to develop into an ideal size for transplant, but area also ultra-sensitive to cold (things like peppers and tomatoes), I like to start those right around 6 weeks—maybe even a little before that if it’s a warm spring. For pretty much all other tender annuals, I’ve found that starting them 4-6 weeks before my last frost date is the sweet spot. This timing allows plenty of time for significant growth while not running into problems with plants bursting out of jugs which can sometimes lead to leggy plants. This timing also leaves the smallest window for having to watch for nights that drop below freezing when tender plants will need to be covered.

A note on zones and winter sowing

While knowing your zone is a great way to determine which things you might want to grow in your own garden based on which plants are perennial in your area, zones are essentially irrelevant to winter sowing. Your climate and last frost date however, are relevant. If you want to learn more about why zones aren’t relevant to winter sowing, I’ve wrote about that here.

Winter sowing in your garden: understanding the nuances of winter across different climates

Winter sowing in a climate with wet winters

Things to keep in mind in climates with wet winters, especially with temperatures that fluctuate above and below freezing, starting group 3 seeds at the recommended time is especially important in order to avoid seed and root rot.

Winter sowing in a climate with cold or harsh winters

When following the recommended windows for winter sowing, winter sowing in a climate with cold or harsh winters is very straight forward. For places with later last frost dates, or historical frosts beyond the average last frost date (some parts of Alaska experience this), winter sowing is a great way to extend your growing season and the mini-greenhouse can serve as an ideal place to protect from late frosts, if you choose to wait to transplant.

Winter sowing in a climate with mild winters

Climates with mild winters tend to have a warmer start and are susceptible to erratic temperature surges and plummets—this can last for several months. As you become familiar with the windows for sowing, aim to remember that these unexpected extreme fluctuations in temperatures can sometimes cause early germination for seeds that produce a tender plant. For this reason, in areas with mild winters, I recommend following the windows very closely for seeds in group 3.

Winter sowing in a climate with warm winters

If you’re winter sowing in a climate with warm winters, early last frost dates, and very few—or even no frosts whatsoever—modifications might be necessary at times. Some winter sowing modifications you might want to use in a climate with warm winters are:

• Start winter sowing sooner than winter solstice

• Monitor moisture levels more frequently

• Apply less drainage holes to the base in order to retain more moisture

• On especially hot days, break up the seal on the tape a bit in order to encourage air flow

• Keep jugs in the shade on especially hot days

• Keep jugs with seeds requiring cold stratification out of direct sunlight during the stratification phase

Winter sowing in a dry climate or on a year with a dry spring

Across any climate, as temperatures start to rise, you might find yourself winter sowing in place that is experiencing a dry spring. When first assembling your mini-greenhouse, it’s always important to make sure the soil is thoroughly saturated. If you find yourself winter sowing during a spring that is especially dry and temperatures have been on a warm trend, it becomes very important to monitor moisture levels more frequently.

Why you should winter sow within windows

So after all this, you still might be asking, why not winter sow my seeds all at once?

The beauty of winter sowing is that as you leverage both nature’s way of growing and the greenhouse effect, you have a lot of flexibility as for when to begin winter sowing. For the most part, winter sowing is fairly forgiving. However, because we’re dealing with nature, while you can winter sow things in the “wrong” window and it turn out to be total success, it’s also true that if you winter sow things outside their ideal window it may turn out to be a flop—an avoidable one at that.

The reality is that when you take the approach of winter sowing things outside their ideal window, you will get varied and inconsistent results over the years. I’m at the point where intuitively, I know which seeds to start in their respective optimal window—I get to them when I have the time and energy, but do so within their most favorable windows so that I have the best chance at success each year.

I hope this guide has been helpful and I’d love to hear what questions you have in the comments below!

How does winter sowing work? Learn here!

Do you to be part of a winter sowing community? Join my winter sowing Facebook group!

What is winter sowing?

Winter sowing is an easy and economical seed starting method. In this method, recycled containers (like milk jugs) are used to create mini greenhouses for seeds to germinate and grow outside before the last frost date.

Winter sowing essentially models the same pattern seeds take in nature. That is, scattered on the ground—some going into a state of dormancy, followed by a freeze-thaw cycle—and when conditions are right, germinating.

In this method, rain and snow is collected through the opening of the jug, and drains through holes at the base. When temperatures start to rise, this creates a warm and moist greenhouse environment. As a result, germination typically occurs several weeks before the last frost date and seedlings are protected and warm, even when outside temperatures drop significantly after initially starting to rise. This process results in mature and robust seedlings that are already acclimated to the outside elements and ready for transplant when growing conditions are right.

There are so many benefits to using this method over other seed starting methods, but in short, winter sowing is a great option if you are wanting to grow your garden from seed or if you just want a head start on your growing season at a low startup cost.

What supplies are needed for winter sowing?

Winter sowing is an ideal seed starting method as most of what you’ll need, you likely already have:

• Translucent or transparent plastic containers

  Milk jugs became the gold standard for winter sowing, but container options don’t end there. Any gallon jug will work—but really any container that allows light to pass through all sides—with vertical space—can be used. While I primarily like to use gallon jugs, some alternative options are:

  • take-out containers

  • half gallon jugs

  • vinegar jugs

  • juice jugs

  • 2 liter pop bottles

  • water bottles

  • plastic tubs and storage containers

• A cutting tool

  To prepare, you’ll be cutting the jug and applying drainage holes at the base. You can get as creative and efficient as you want here. For cutting, a utility knife or box cutter works really well. For applying drainage holes, the same can be used but a drill or hot glue gun will make container prep very efficient.

• Small hand spade

• Potting mix

  What you’re trying to achieve in your containers is a balance of moisture drainage and moisture retention; really most any potting mix should work just fine. You can also use potting soil but it needs to have really good drainage.

  • Soil mediums to avoid:

    • Starting mix — starting mix lacks the compost nutrients needed.

    • Garden and top soil — these soils will be too dense and will prevent proper drainage. They are also both devoid of nutrients.

• A designated growing area outdoors

  In order for your seeds to germinate and develop into seedlings, they will need access to soil, water, and light. For water, place the jugs in an area where snow and rain will easily accumulate inside the container. As for light, they’ll need to be in an area that is part shade to full sun—the main thing to keep in mind here is that they will need access to direct sunlight in order to grow. Contact with the soil, mulch, or in a raised bed is ideal. For areas where slugs are an issue, place the jugs on gravel or dry areas where slugs are less likely to thrive.

• Labeling materials

  Some tried and true means for labeling include a sharpie marker, a paint marker, or a plant tag inside the container using a waterproof pen. What you’ll want to keep in mind here is that your jugs will be exposed to all the elements outside throughout the winter and early spring, so you’ll need to use something that can withstand a lot of moisture and sun exposure.

• Spray bottle

• Seeds

• Tape

  

How to winter sow:

For the purpose of this guide, these instructions are intended for those using gallon milk jugs or similar containers. The principles can be applied to other kinds of containers.

1. Collect jugs

   If you don’t use gallon jugs in your everyday life, here are some ideas for finding them:

   1. Ask neighbors and friends.

   2. Put out an ask on social media.

   3. Ask local coffee shops for their recycled milk jugs.

   4. Visit your local recycling center.

2. Prepare jugs for winter sowing

   1. Add 5-8 drainage holes to the base of your jug.

   2. Cut the jug horizontally just below the bottom of the handle. The goal is for there to be enough space to accommodate about 4 inches of soil. This allows the perfect amount of room for both root and foliage growth. Cut just enough distance around so that the handle is still attached and the lid will open and close with ease.

3. Dampen soil

   If you haven’t already, add water to your allotted potting mix and stir so that the soil becomes thoroughly damp. The soil should hold its shape when lightly compressed, but should not be dripping wet.

4. Fill jugs with soil

   Start by filling your jugs with about 4 inches of moistened potting mix.

   

   

5. Add seeds

   The main things to keep in mind at this step are how many seeds per jug and how deep to sow them.

How many seeds per jug

As for how many seeds to sow in each jug, the goal is finding that sweet spot of not over-seeding, but also having as many seedlings as you plan to use. Because sometimes not all seeds germinate, I like to over-seed, but not excessively. There really aren’t hard and fast rules as for how many seeds you should sow per jug, but there are some things to consider.

As a general rule, I like to limit each jug to no more than 20 seeds. There are certain things (like many vegetables and flowers) that I would only sow anywhere from 3-9 seeds per jug. My reasoning behind this is to avoid crowding and because of how many I plan to actually use. For seed packets that note a lower germination rate or older seeds, I will add more seeds.

For some herbs and flowers, I will sprinkle generously over the surface of the soil. I will then either thin later or transplant in chunks

How deep to sow seeds

As for how deep to sow your seeds, you can certainly follow the packet guidelines, however, because the seeds will be in an enclosed moist space that critters and the elements wont be able to disturb, these guidelines don’t always apply to winter sowing.

For most tiny seeds (that more closely resemble dust than a seed), all you’ll need to do is sprinkle the seeds over the soil and make sure they are very moist before sealing the jug. Larger seeds can be sown a bit deeper—but I usually don’t go any deeper than the size of the seed itself. Some seeds do require light to germinate—these tend to be smaller seeds, and it is best to surface sow these. Others require a period of complete darkness in order to germinate and really do need to be buried. For best results, becoming familiar with seed-specific sowing information is still recommended with winter sowing.

5. Moisten surface

   Finish with a final application of water. A spray bottle is an efficient and tidy way of adding that last bit of moisture before sealing the jug. The goal is to get the top layer of soil and seeds thoroughly moistened, but your container should not be pooling with water.

6. Tape the jug

   Be sure not to leave any cracks around the cut areas to achieve that greenhouse effect. Remove the cap if you haven’t already.

7. Label the jug

   Implementing a consistent labeling system makes for a smooth transplanting process in the spring.

8. Set the completed jug outside

   It is important to get your jugs outside immediately after assembling them. From here out, they should remain in their designated growing area until it’s time to transplant. Be sure to set them in a place that gets direct sunlight and is also protected from heavy winds to avoid the jugs blowing over or drying out. I like to keep all of my jugs tightly packed together in a raised bed. PVC pipe or garden sticks can be run through the handles to keep them from blowing away if they are in an open area.

Is that really all there is to it?

Technically, at this point, you can go back inside and start daydreaming about your garden (this usually leads to more winter sowing). For a period of time, once your jugs have been sown with seed, winter sowing is very hands off. However, winter sowing isn’t really a set and forget method. There are two reasons you’ll want to monitor your jugs.

1. As temperatures begin to rise, you will want to monitor for any signs that germination has occurred. Keep in mind that inside the jug is a micro-climate that is much warmer than the outside air. In direct sun, the inside temperature can get upwards of 10-30 degrees warmer than outside temperatures—which is why you’ll see your seeds germinating and putting off significant growth several weeks before your last frost date. When you do find that seed sprouting has occurred, soil moisture becomes very important. For the most part, snow and rain will take care of the watering. But there are times where precipitation is scarce after seeds germinate and you need to ensure that the soil is appropriately moist in order to support a young seedling and continue that greenhouse effect.

   A few questions to ask in order to determine if your jug needs water: Is the jug light when you pick it up? If so, it needs water. Does the surface look dry? If so, it needs water. Is condensation forming on the sides of the jug? If not, it needs water.

   Top watering with a spray bottle is an option but is not always the most efficient way to water. An easy and effective way to water your jugs is to fill a large tub or small pool with a few inches of water and set them in to soak and absorb that water from the base.

2. The other time to check in with your jugs is on especially cold nights after seeds for frost sensitive plants have sprouted. A simple tried and true method for protecting those young seedlings on especially cold nights, is to make sure they are watered well and covered with a blanket until the sun can continue its warming effect in the morning. This concern really only comes into play on nights that are expected to reach below freezing temperatures for several hours throughout the night. Seedlings that are not tolerant to frost run the risk of being damaged or dying on these nights. Most hardy seedlings will not need to be protected unless there is a hard freeze expected for several hours throughout the night.

   

When to start winter sowing

There are two main windows for winter sowing:

1. When the weather in your area becomes consistently cold

2. 4-8 weeks before your last frost date

When the weather in your area becomes consistently cold

This window is for anything requiring cold stratification (like native plants and perennials) followed by cool season vegetables and herbs, and hardy annuals.

This window extends to the start of the second window, and many seeds from this window can still continue to be winter sown at the start of the second window.

4-8 weeks before your last frost date

The start of this window (8-10 weeks before the last frost) is for starting your fast growing cool season vegetables and hardy annuals. In this window, winter sowing also begins to shift more exclusively to sowing tender annuals; anything that is frost sensitive. This will include sowing things for your warm season flower, vegetable, and herb gardens.

Want to learn more? Have questions? Join my winter sowing group on Facebook!