Planting in Summer: Risky, Ridiculous, and Absolutely Doable (If You Like Babysitting)
Summer Planting: Babysitting in a Heatwave
Well.
You’ve decided to plant something in summer.
You wild, sun-dazed optimist.
Perhaps you’ve spotted a tempting dahlia at the nursery that fluttered its petals at you. Or maybe your neighbor just happened to mention she’s reorganizing her front border and offering you a "spare" helenium, which you graciously accepted.
Either way, you are now entering the elite club of Summer Planters, or as I like to call us: Heatwave Horticulturists.
First of All: Is It a Bad Idea?
Technically... yes.
Planting or transplanting in summer is, as the professionals say, “not ideal.” (Translation: “WHAT ARE YOU DOING PUT THAT SHOVEL DOWN AND BACK AWAY SLOWLY.”)
But can it be done?
Also yes. With caution. With care. With the kind of loving attention usually reserved for newborns or sourdough starters.
Because planting in the peak of summer is not just a job.
It’s a commitment.
It’s a lifestyle.
It’s full-time garden nannying job .
Why It’s Risky Business
Picture this: your new plant has just been lovingly lowered into the soil, roots fluffed, mulch arranged like a floral duvet—and then WHAM. Mother Nature turns the heat up to "solar flare" and says, “Good luck with that.”
In summer, the sun is relentless. The soil is dry. And the plants? The plants are confused. One minute they were minding their own business at the nursery, the next they’re in your garden gasping, “WHERE AM I? WHO ARE YOU? WHY IS THE GROUND CRUSTY?”
They are vulnerable. They are thirsty. They will be ill tempered.
But that’s okay. You, dear gardener, are here to help them through it.
The Summer Planting Survival Guide
Let’s do this. Together. With dignity (optional) and a watering schedule (not optional).
1. Timing Is Everything
Do not—I repeat, do not—plant at noon in full sun with sweat in your eyes and a barbecue going next door. Early morning or evening is your golden window. If you must plant, do it when the sun isn’t glaring like an angry goose.
2. Soak Like You Mean It
Water the plant before you plant it. Water the hole. Water the soil. Then water yourself because you’ve earned it. This isn’t just hydration, it’s a tactical strike. We are not kidding here we are talking biblical proportions. Think of Noah’s Ark but with drip irrigation. We mean dry up the whales, guys. (Just kidding- Absolutely do not do that).
3. Shade It Like a Celebrity
Use a bit of shade cloth, an umbrella, a lawn chair, or your neighbor’s stylish dog, whatever it takes to protect your new green friend from baking in those first few days. Think of it as a parasol for their fragile little plant soul.
4. Mulch Like You’re Tucking Them In
Add a generous layer of mulch to keep roots cool and moist. Mulch is the plant equivalent of a memory foam mattress: comforting, supportive, and slightly arrogant about it.
5. No Fertilizer Yet, Thank You
They are already stressed. Don’t offer them protein shakes during a panic attack. Let them settle in before introducing any extra nutrients. For now, water is their love language.
6. Monitor Like a Helicopter Parent
Yes, you will become emotionally invested. You will stare at them too long. You will whisper, “You’re doing so well, sweetheart,” to a rudbeckia while your neighbors quietly close their blinds. That’s normal. Own it.
Transplants: Hot Messes of Summer
Transplanting existing plants in summer is a slightly more dangerous game. You’re digging up their roots (literal and emotional), moving them during their busiest season, and hoping they’ll adapt with grace. Heads Up: some won’t.
Here’s the key: dig wide trying your best not to damage the root ball, move quickly, water obsessively. If they survive the move without an existential crisis, it’s a miracle. If not, well... compost heals all wounds.
Expect the Wobble
Let’s set expectations: they will droop. Leaves will flop. You will panic. But don’t rush to dig them back up or write a eulogy just yet. Plants are resilient. Sometimes they just need a bit of time before they pull through.
The Joy of Babysitting
At some point, you’ll look out the window and see a once-limp canna standing proud again, or a transplanted rose giving a single, slightly woozy bloom as if to say, “I didn’t die yet!”
And in that moment, you’ll feel pure, ridiculous, sun-drenched joy.
Because summer planting may not be the easy choice—but goodness, it’s satisfying. And oddly character-building. Like hiking with a fussy toddler who only eats yogurt and makes you carry their rock collection.
So yes, it’s a gamble.
Yes, it’s hot.
Yes, you now talk to your plants more than your friends.
You may possibly even need an emotional support hydrangea.
(No judgment. We all have one.)
The Payoff (a.k.a. Why You’re Doing This to Yourself)
At some point—maybe a week from now, maybe three—you’ll glance out the window and see it: a slightly faint, sun-kissed bloom. A dahlia standing taller. A transplanted coreopsis that hasn’t collapsed in protest.
And you’ll think: Well, I’ll be… it’s working.
Because while summer planting is not for the faint-hearted, it is for the hopeful. The stubborn. The slightly over-attached.
You’ve hovered. You’ve watered. You’ve rearranged shade structures like a stage manager with a clipboard. And now, slowly, your plant is coming back to life.
So carry on, you glorious garden whisperer.
You’ve done the brave thing.
The ambitious thing.
The yes-it’s-summer-but-I-just-had-an-idea thing.
And now? Your garden is growing—and so are you. It is more than a landscape—it’s a little ecosystem of triumph. A story of resilience, both yours and the plants.
(Just don’t forget to water. Like… right now. Go on, I’ll wait.)