Since purchasing land in Colorado, I’ve had various and sundry ideas for projects. Gardening is one of them.

I’m a beginner. I know the basics, but I also know I have a lot to learn about soil, altitude, frost, watering rhythms, and furry, little thiefs. I’m still listening, hoping to understand nature’s language of patience and beauty.

One thing I do know: I love sunflowers.

I call them “happy plants.” Their little faces make me smile every time I see them. They look like they’re constantly celebrating being alive. If my land ends up covered in nothing but sunflowers, I’ll probably still call that a success.

Planting them is a priority. But of course, I had questions.

How early can I plant in CO? Which varieties grow best here? How much sun is actually enough sun? What’s their preferred watering pattern?

I knew I could Google or ask AI my burning questions and get some decent answers. But then I thought, My Substack crew is pretty great. I bet some of them are gardeners who can give me some basic tips.

I posted a Note and expected a few high-level suggestions.

What happened was quite the opposite.

I received detailed, enthusiastic replies from more than a handful of people. These were thoughtful comments that clearly reflected an understanding of my climate and planting factors that aren’t intuitive.

They advised me on preferred watering patterns, CO soil hardiness levels (I hadn’t even known that was a thing!), protecting the seeds from hungry critters, and using stakes to provide support and protection against wind.

Someone shared their favorite varieties and gave me specific tips regarding spacing. Someone else recommend compost options and shared a photo of their setup. And one incredibly kind soul mailed me several types of seeds that same day. Actual little bundles of potential life, from her garden to mine.

What a tremendous outpouring of energy and connection.

On the surface, this whole thing might seem small, perhaps even a little silly. But it didn’t feel small.

It showed me something that I’m worried we might lose.

Yes, AI could have answered my questions. But AI wouldn’t have been excited about sunflowers.

When you type a question into a chat box, you get information. When you ask your fellow humans, you get engagement and the warmth of connection. You get someone remembering what it was like to be beginner.

You get stories and generosity and the beautiful, pure joy of people sharing something they love.

My simple question about sunflowers turned into a little pocket of happiness and community.

While technology will always be an option, I really hope we don’t forget the beauty of asking each other for help. Because you might just discover that there are people out there who are genuinely happy you asked.

And if all goes well over here, my little patch of Colorado land will be filled with sunflowers thanks to you all. That feels like a pretty beautiful way to grow my favorite flower.

In ink,

Allison

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