I already know which pot I’m refilling first next spring, the one that gave me cosmos all summer with barely any fuss, and I know exactly which pot I’m retiring for good, the shallow one where the ranunculus corms mostly never showed up at all. A full season of trying things on this balcony has left me with a much shorter, much more specific list than the one I started with in April.
The clear yes: cosmos
Cosmos is the easiest decision on this list. It tolerated the wind, managed on partial sun, didn’t seem to mind a smaller pot, and kept giving me stems through most of the summer without much intervention from me. I’ll plant more of it next year, probably in a slightly bigger container so I can let it get a bit fuller, but the plant itself earned its spot without any real argument.
The qualified yes: zinnias
Zinnias worked, but not effortlessly. I had to stake a few of the taller stems after wind bent them, and growth was slower than I think it would have been with more direct sun. I’m keeping zinnias on the list for next year because when they did flower, the color and the vase life were worth it, but I’ll plant them somewhere slightly more sheltered if I can manage it, rather than in the exposed corner they were in this year.
The surprise yes: nasturtiums
I didn’t plant nasturtiums with cutting in mind at all. They ended up trailing over the pot edge, tangled into the sweet peas, and giving me small stems that worked nicely in a jam jar arrangement even though they’re not a conventional cut flower. That was a pleasant accident, and I’m planting them again on purpose next year, probably in a spot where I can let them trail without swallowing whatever’s next to them, which they came close to doing this time.
The no: ranunculus, at least in that pot
Almost none of the ranunculus corms I planted actually came up, and I’ve decided that particular attempt isn’t worth repeating in the same way. I suspect the pot I used was too shallow, and I rushed the planting without thinking carefully about depth, so I won’t say ranunculus is off the list forever. But I’m not repeating the exact setup that failed this year, and until I’m ready to fix the container issue properly, I’d rather not spend another season disappointed by an empty pot.
The maybe, if I change something: stock and sweet peas
Stock is a genuine maybe. The seedlings looked strong, and I think part of the failure was my own inconsistent watering rather than the plant being wrong for the space. If I can commit to a steadier routine, I might try it again, but I’m not confident enough in my own habits yet to promise myself I’ll do better.
Sweet peas gave me a decent early run before the heat slowed them down faster than I expected. I like the idea of them enough to try again, maybe positioned somewhere that holds a bit less heat, but I’m not putting them at the top of next year’s list either. They’re a maybe, with adjustments, rather than a firm yes.
What I’m changing about how I plant, not just what
It isn’t only the list of flowers that’s different for next year. It’s how I’m going to plant them. This year I put most things in on more or less the same weekend in spring, which meant everything demanded attention at once and I couldn’t tell which plant actually needed what. Next year I want to stagger things a bit, giving each new pot a week or two of closer watching before I add the next one, so a struggling seedling doesn’t get lost in the general busyness of setting up six pots at the same time.
I’m also rethinking where things go rather than just what goes in. The zinnias and stock both suffered from being placed somewhere convenient rather than somewhere suited to them, and I want to actually walk the balcony at different times of day before I commit a plant to a spot, instead of assuming any open patch of railing will do.
A mistake I don’t want to repeat with this list
I almost talked myself into ranunculus again purely out of stubbornness, because I liked the idea of them and didn’t want to admit the attempt had failed. That’s not a good reason to repeat something. The honest version of this list has to be based on what the pots actually gave me, not on what I wish had happened, and separating those two things took more discipline than I expected. It’s easy to romanticize a flower that never really had a chance in the container I gave it, and I nearly did exactly that before I sat down and looked at the results plainly.
Building next year’s list around actual results
What strikes me most, looking at this list, is how different it is from the one I made back in spring, when I was mostly picking flowers because I liked the idea of them rather than because I had any evidence they’d suit this particular balcony. Next year’s plan is shorter, and it’s built entirely around what actually happened in these pots rather than what looked appealing in a seed catalog. That feels like a much smaller, much more useful kind of plan, even if it’s less exciting to write down than a long wish list would have been.