Has the weather this summer caused both chaos and amazement in your garden? It certainly has in mine. Some things have happened here that left me exclaiming out loud and questioning what is about to come next.
The first real surprise appeared in the Herbetum. For those who don’t know, I have created a Herbetum here at the herb farm — a living collection of herbs arranged as one might see in a botanic garden. In one of the beds, I planted a swathe of Lavandula angustifolia cultivars, including ‘Munstead’, Twickle Purple, Rosea to name a few. These weren’t casual plug plants either. They were propagated from our own stock, raised carefully from cuttings, grown on into 2-litre pots, and only then planted out. In other words, they were already over two years old when they went into the ground where they have flourished in the raised bed for the past two years.
Now, Lavandula angustifolia, is not generally known for producing abundant seedlings in the UK, especially the named forms . Yet last summer, I noticed a few little seedlings sprouting up beside each plant, and thought that is interesting let’s see if they get through the winter. They did and loads more appeared this spring. Nature had done what I hadn’t expected: it had taken matters into its own hands.
Those seedlings stopped me in my tracks, and they inspired this article. They made me realise, once again, how often gardeners rush to weed, tidy, and “correct” what the garden offers us, rather than pausing to see what is really happening. So, in defence of the humble self-seeder, I want to make the case for why volunteer plants deserve a valued place in our gardens.
1. Genetic diversity and adaptation
When plants set seed and grow where they fall, they are engaging in the oldest and most reliable form of natural selection. Each seedling that appears is a little experiment in adaptation. Those that germinate and thrive in your garden are the ones best suited to your unique combination of soil, light, moisture, and microclimate.
Bought plants, however carefully chosen, are raised in nursery conditions: watered regularly, fed, and grown in compost mixes that may be very different from your own soil. Once planted, they must cope with stresses they have never experienced before. In contrast, a self-seeded plant starts its life exactly where it intends to remain. If it doesn’t suit the spot, it doesn’t survive. If it does, you are rewarded with a plant genetically primed for your conditions. Over the years, this leads to a stronger, more resilient population in your garden.
I suspect that is exactly what has happened with my lavenders and thymes. They are quietly breeding plants that will be better adapted to this corner of Gloucestershire than any nursery specimen I could grow. However be aware that no two seedlings will look identical to each other or the parent plant, ideal for specimens but not brilliant for the uniformity of a hedge .
2. Soil–root connection
One of the most overlooked benefits of self-seeders is the integrity of their root systems. A seed that germinates in situ sends down its taproot or fibrous roots directly into undisturbed soil. It is never constrained by a pot, pricked out, or disturbed by transplanting. That means it forges a natural, deep connection with the soil from day one.
This has real consequences. A self-sown seedling is usually better anchored, more drought-resistant, and more efficient at foraging for nutrients than one raised in artificial conditions. Anyone who has compared a volunteer foxglove with a nursery grown one knows the difference: the self-sown plant often looks sturdier, more settled, and far less needy.
3. Perfect timing
Gardeners like to think we know when to sow seeds. We follow the instructions on packets, consult books, and circle dates in our diaries. But plants have been sowing themselves for millennia, and they know best. A seed that falls from its parent does not wait for human permission — it germinates when conditions are right for it.
That may be autumn, when the soil is still warm but the days are cooling. It may be early spring, just as the light lengthens and moisture is abundant. By following their own rhythm, self-seeders often achieve better germination and establishment than anything we cosset in trays.
I see this most clearly with thymes in my new herb garden, especially the creeping form. However carefully I grow it in pots, it never flourishes as much as those that set seed and drop into the gravel of path and in the gravel garden in between other herbs, popping up cheerfully, as if to say, “This is when I want to grow, not when you tell me to.”
4. Free succession planting
Another gift of self-seeders is how they keep a garden dynamic. They appear where there is space. When you pull up one crop or cut back a border, seedlings move in to fill the gaps. This natural succession means your beds rarely look bare, and the turnover of plants happens with little effort from you.
Calendula officinalis, Pot Marigold, is an excellent example. It rarely appears where I sow it in the garden, but it always appears where I need it. Its bright orange flowers bridge the season when other plants are fading, and because it sows itself, I never worry about keeping it going. It simply renews itself year after year, adapting to whatever room the garden gives it.
5. Food and habitat for wildlife
Many self-seeding plants, whether culinary herbs or wild interlopers, are rich sources of nectar, pollen, and seed. Borage, fennel, dill, parsley, and calendula are not just useful to us in the kitchen; they are magnets for bees, hoverflies, and butterflies. Fennel in particular is beloved by hoverflies, whose larvae munch happily on aphids.
Even plants we often dismiss as weeds, such as dandelions and chickweed, are beneficial herbs that are in the wrong place and they provide essential early nectar for pollinators when little else is flowering. By allowing self-seeders some space, we knit together a mini-ecosystem that supports not only insects but also the birds and mammals that feed on them. In an age when biodiversity is in crisis, this is no small contribution.
6. Sustainability and economy
Finally, let’s not forget the simple fact that every self-sown plant is free. No plastic pot, no peat or compost, no energy-guzzling greenhouse, and no lorry journey to the garden centre. Just nature, doing what it does best.
In times when gardeners are becoming ever more conscious of sustainability, self-seeders are a gift. They allow us to step back from consumption and let the garden provide for itself. There is a deep satisfaction in realising that you don’t always need to intervene; sometimes the best thing is to recognise abundance when it appears at your feet.
The gardener’s role: curator, not controller
None of this means abandoning your garden to chaos. Left unchecked, some self-seeders can dominate. Poppies, Yarrow, and St John’s wort can all take over if given too free a rein. The skill lies in becoming a curator rather than a controller — editing gently, thinning here, transplanting there, and leaving room for surprises.
Think of yourself less as a master and more as a partner in the process. By working with the natural cycles of sowing, germination, and establishment, you create a garden that is both beautiful and resilient.
In conclusion
So the argument in a nutshell is this: self-seeded plants are nature’s way of producing stronger, better-timed, site-adapted plants that feed wildlife, save the gardener money, and reduce intervention.
The lavender seedlings in my Herbetum are a reminder of this truth. They weren’t planned, purchased, or planted. They simply appeared, uninvited yet welcome. And in doing so, they taught me — again — that the best gardens are those where we loosen our grip a little and let nature play her part.
So next time you reach for the hoe, pause for a moment. Look carefully at what is sprouting between the paving stones or nestled at the foot of your perennials. Among the weeds may be the volunteers that will bring resilience, beauty, and life to your garden. In praising the self-seeder, we are really praising nature herself — endlessly generous, quietly clever, and always ready to surprise us.
Want to know more?
You can find more about herbs in Jekka’s blog, our past newsletters and videos as well as Jekka's new book '100 Herbs to Grow' and Jekka's existing books, namely 'A Pocketful of Herbs' or Jekka's Complete Herb Book, and also by browsing Jekkapedia and exploring our herb based recipes.
Alternatively, come and visit the herb farm in South Gloucestershire at one of our Open Days, Master Classes or Herb Experiences such as last year’s Jekka’s HerbFest (see the highlights).
For advice on growing and maintaining herbs, check out ‘Jekka’s Seasonal Tips’ blog series, which includes what to do in your herb garden in early spring, late spring, summer and autumn & winter. Together they form the basis of Jekka’s guide on how to grow herbs.
Please also see Jekka's herbs of the month blogs: Bay (January), Rosemary (February), Salad Burnet (March), French Tarragon (April), Angelica (May), Alliums (June), Lavender (July), Basil (August), Mint (September), Szechuan Pepper (October), Thyme (November) and Curry Tree (December)
Herb plants are available and you can organise a collection from our herb farm in South Gloucestershire or at one of our Open Days. Please see our 'Looking Good List' for availability and use our webform or email your list directly to us (sales@jekkas.com). We no longer offer a general mail order service for our plants.