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We’ve been growing dahlias for about seven years now. It started the way so many good obsessions do — accidentally. A couple of bags of tubers from Costco, tossed into the ground without much ceremony. A few months later: color explosions, frilly petals, and the realization that we were in deep.

The next year we ordered a few fancy ones from Swan Island Dahlias (warning: once you start browsing their catalog, there’s no going back). Then we found our local dahlia society — which turned out to be full of the most generous, slightly obsessed, flower weirdos you could ever hope to meet.

In those early days, we had dahlias scattered all around the yard — little patches of color in random corners. Now, most of them live together in the lower yard, in a cluster of raised beds that look a bit like a patchwork quilt. We built the beds out of repurposed wood and stone, and last year finished a garden shed made from recycled windows and salvaged materials. It’s a little crooked and full of character — just like us.

Jars of flowers! Out for grabs!

Maybe you're a neighbor and you've walked by and seen this setup.  Maybe you have seen a post in one of the Facebook groups.  Possibly you are someone who has taken some of our flowers for yourself or a friend.  Maybe you had no idea that we give away hundreds of colorful blooms every year, but we sure do!

Every summer, the yard bursts into bloom — reds, oranges, yellows, and wild sunset blends. And every summer, we start filling jars. We grow about 200 plants now.  And with dahlias, every time you cut a flower, two more bloom in its place!  Seriously, the more we cut and give away, the MORE we have.

We’ve given away at least 400 jars over the past several years — to neighbors, teachers, fundraisers, strangers, friends.

Sometimes we team up with others: a teacher picking up bouquets for the first day of school, a volunteer taking armloads for an animal rescue fundraiser, someone decorating for a wedding or a party. Our blooms have been in at least a few weddings that I know of.

Why do we give them away?
Because it’s fun.
Because it spreads color and joy.
Because this world is heavy enough, and color, whimsy, and sharing are ways we keep our hearts open and tender.

It's just something that makes our hearts happy - to see, cultivate, and share the color of these flowers! A way to meet our neighbors, share a smile, and remind ourselves that we can all be a part of something beautiful together.  Sometimes it feels like a little act of resistance against despair.  Maybe we are trying to grow hope alongside the dahlias.

How We Grow

Our dahlia beds are fed by the same compost pile that eats our kitchen scraps all year long. Banana peels, coffee grounds, garden clippings — it all comes back as black gold that we dig into the soil each spring.

We usually fertilize once or twice a season with a liquid, fish-based fertilizer that smells absolutely atrocious but works like magic. (Seriously, if you walk by while we’re doing it — sorry in advance.)

Dahlias are thirsty creatures, so we installed simple drip lines to conserve water and make life easier. We’re hoping to set up a rain-capture system soon to make the whole thing even more sustainable.

What We’ve Learned (Mostly the Hard Way)

Every gardener has a heartbreak story, and ours involves a tragic winter and a whole lot of mushy tubers. Because of our soggy climate (zone 8b, with generous amounts of rain), we dig our tubers every fall. Some folks leave theirs in the ground and have good luck — if there’s no hard freeze, they might come back. But for us, rot is the bigger risk.

We’ve tried every storage method known to humankind — boxes, crates, vermiculite, sawdust, prayers — and had one especially grim year where the ones left in the ground rotted and the ones we stored got moldy. We lost almost everything.

We were left with maybe ten survivors — our hardy, heroic super tubers. But here’s the beautiful part: our local club members shared extras, we found mystery boxes at sales, and neighbors offered starts. The garden came back fuller than ever.

It’s one of my favorite lessons the dahlias have taught us: loss happens, but generosity regenerates.  We've now perfected the storage that works for us, just took a little trial and lots of tears.

Here's another post I wrote about growing dahlias:
Dahlias & Dirt Piles

Sometimes we hear from people: How can I help? Can I pay you? I want to do something like this! How did you get started?
Some quick answers:  We don't sell flowers. But sometimes people leave a few bucks in a jar, or send a little venmo our way.  That's used for things like fertilizer, replacing tubers, or purchasing parts for the water system.  We will always take help with digging, cleaning, and storing in the fall, and are happy to share our knowledge as we work together. Jar donations are very welcome, year around.  Save those empty pickle and jam jars and drop them off when you have a few!

We just started by doing something we loved and expanding it to include others.  You could do this in whatever way works for you!  Grow some dahlias if you want (heck, we'll give you the tubers!) Think about things YOU are passionate about or ways your neighbors or community could use support or love.  Check out Little Free Library and Little Free Art Gallery and Little Free Food Pantry. In the past our family has also had a lot of fun painting rocks and leaving them in community spaces to spread joy and whimsy.  Here's a great article about painting and hiding rocks in/around Everett (but definitely an activity that can happen no matter where you are!)

​Choose your favorite dahlia and find out what it says about YOU!
What's Your Dahlia Personality?

Q: Why do you grow and give away flowers?

A: Because we like the idea that anybody can do something small and simple to spread more color and joy in the world. 

Q: Who lives on Dexter and grows these dahlias?  Who is “me” and “we” in all this?

A: "Me" is Crystal Gurney — primary dahlia farmer, creativity doula, and overall wrangler of color and whimsy. This blog is my digital garden shed....part story archive, part how-to, part love letter to community and creativity.

"We" is the household here on Dexter Avenue, where our little urban dahlia farm grows. That includes me, my husband Alex (you may have met us wandering around with armfuls of flowers), a couple of teenagers, and a rotating cast of family and friends who often lend a hand as unofficial dahlia “farmhands.”

Q: Do you charge for the flowers? Can I order some from you?

A: Nope. We don't sell them. They’re freely given. The whole point is to brighten someone’s day, no strings attached. We don't do orders or guarantees - this is a passion hobby for us, not a business, no stress in dahlias, thank you!

Q:  ​Do you sell tubers?

A:  Nope. We don’t sell them, but we often have extras at the end of the season. If we do, we give them away in the spring. Keep an eye out for posts or emails about “tuber share” time. Also, almost all of the local dahlia groups do tuber sales in the Spring and sell their extras as a club fundraiser, usually for great prices.

We have some favorite small and local growers:

• ​Bonny Blooms Dahlias
• Dahlia Barn
• Floret Farm
• Triple Wren Farms
• Soaring Hearts Dahlias

Q:  When do you plant dahlia tubers?

A:  We plant in late spring, aiming to have tubers in the ground by Mother’s Day.  Dahlias like warm soil, so putting them out too early doesn’t help much, they’ll just nap underground until it’s cozy enough to grow.

Q:  When do you dig them up? Do you have to dig? How do you store them over the winter?

A:  We dig in late October, once the plants have died back from the first frost.
You can leave them in the ground if you live in a mild climate and have good drainage, but here in our rainy Pacific Northwest microclimate, they tend to rot. Digging and storing them over winter gives us the best results. We dry them out for a few days, then tuck them into crates with sawdust or peat moss and keep them in a cool, dark, mostly dry spot — around 40–50°F. It’s part science, part witchcraft, part blind faith.

Q:  How much sun and water do dahlias need?

A:  They like full sun (at least six hours a day) and lots of water once they start blooming. Ours are on drip irrigation to help conserve water and make life easier. If you’re hand watering, aim for deep, consistent soaking rather than frequent sprinkles.

Q:  Can I join the local dahlia club?  How do I learn more?

A:  You are welcome to email us: [email protected]
Our local dahlia society is full of generous, flower-loving folks who are always excited to welcome new growers. Search for a local dahlia society near you.

• Snohomish County Dahlia Society
• American Dahlia Society
• Seattle Dahlia Society

Q: What if someone wants to make a donation or help or say “thank you” in a tangible way?

A: That’s very kind! You can:

• Save jars for us. It's best if they are at least 8oz size + and clean.
• Email us: [email protected]
• Leave a message when you grab flowers or bring jars.  We've had sweet notes tucked in empty jars and we've also had notes pinned to the fence.
• Leave a comment here on this blog post.
• Send via Venmo: @Crystal-Gurney-1 (ID #: 8901)
• If you have photos of our blooms that you'd like to share,  email them, we want to add them to this page.
  
  

We save the notes people leave us — little love letters from the neighborhood — and they always make our day.

Sign up for dahlia updates by email.

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One of the things I love most about growing dahlias is seeing them return year after year, like friends showing up for their annual visit.  I know their names, and have seen the way they’ve evolved over time. Some of these beauties have been hanging around my garden for years, and I'm now tending to their great, great, great, grand-dahlias. There’s a long-standing bond between us. It’s like a family reunion, but with petals instead of people, and everyone’s quieter and better behaved. (side note: I think every mom should have a hobby that involves NO ONE talking)

I’m all about a good dahlia newbie too. The fresh faces are always fun to meet, watching them pop up like “Hey, look what I can do!” and slowly uncovering their personalities as they grow. The new ones can be fun and surprising, almost like meeting a stranger who quickly becomes a friend, revealing a side of themselves you didn’t expect. Don't even get me started on the glorious chaotic surprise of mystery and mislabeled tubers!

What gets me every time is how different they all are. Tall ones, short ones. Thick stems, delicate stems. Blooms that look like they’re going to break the jar with their fullness, and others that are a little more....understated. And then there’s the color! (have I mentioned my favorite color is ALL of them??!?)  Dahlias come in so many gorgeous colors with blushes, and striations, and variations of all kinds. Did you know there are over 55,000 dahlia varieties? That's a whole lot of floral personalities, each unique and beautiful in its own way.
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Growing dahlias (or growing anything) feels similar to art for me - I think there is so much contained within that can offer lessons and medicine for living life. Some years, things feel dormant.  Sometimes there isn't much happening above ground, but we know that under the surface, there’s a whole world of growth happening in secret. Other times? Boom. Everything bursts out of the soil at once.  That’s just one of the lessons, right? Even when we can’t see the progress, something is happening.  And we can learn to trust this process.

There's something about each dahlia for me that says a little something about that blooms personality.  It's interesting to see which ones my friends gravitate toward.  It’s uncanny.  A friend or neighbor will wander my garden and choose their favorite dahlia, and it’s like their personality just aligns with the flower. There’s this weird, magical thing where I can look at someone, then glance at a dahlia, and think, "Yep. That’s them. That's you." I swear it’s like the dahlias have their own little intuitive matchmaking game going on.

So, I thought I'd share this fun dahlia magic with you. Ready to find your dahlia alter ego?  If you’ve ever wondered which dahlia just GETS you, here’s your chance. Take a minute to choose your favorite from the photos above.  Then scroll down and find out which dahlia flower matches your vibe. Maybe you’re the fierce AC Cougar, strutting through life like it’s your runway. Or perhaps you’re more of a Fuzzy Wuzzy—soft, playful, with a touch of mystery. 

Have some fun with it, and let me know how your floral personality matches up. Sometimes it seems like these blooms know more about us than we think.

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Check out Seeds of Connection: Art Greenhouse, starting Sept 16
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​Learn more about me and my work here

I've been growing dahlias for a few years now.  This year I decided to really go big and we took over our front yard (where there is soooo much sunshine!  also, who actually *needs* all that grass???) with 3 big raised beds and 60+ plants.

These dahlias have given me so much to think about this year.  

When we were planting them, it was long, hot, dirty work.  Identifying the tubers we dug up last year, sorting out the ones that didn't save well over the winter (luckily I only lost 3 or 4 due to rot or mold), moving dirt into the beds, digging holes.  There's dusty bone meal, there are slimy worms.  We were hunched over, and lifting, and getting up and down, crouching, and twisting, and generally moving our bodies in all kinds of ways that weren't comfortable and definitely were not what we are used to!

We got all those dahlia babies tucked into their dirt beds, markers identifying what was nestled in below.  It was a couple of really intense days of lots of work.  And when we were done, we got to stand back and proudly survey our work.....lovely piles of DIRT.

​So we were dirty, dusty, tired and achy and all we had to show for it was dirt, and hope.  From there, all we had was information from past experience and from guidebooks and friends - which all told us to wait and trust that these flower babies would indeed grow and bloom and add something beautiful to our yard and life.

I keep coming back to this process of planting dahlias.  It has reminded me of another season in my life of a different kind of planting, and growing, and waiting.
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Several years ago, I found myself in a pretty  dark place.  Lots of things had shifted in my life.  Things that had been central to my identity had been lost, or changed in major ways.  I found myself wondering if I actually knew who I was anymore. I felt disconnected from myself, from my partner and family, and just generally from my life.  

I felt adrift and unmoored after a huge shift in my perspective of faith, after leaving a life of immersion in toxic religion (hello, any other exvangelicals??)  I wondered how I could find a connection to spirituality without religion.  Because of health reasons, I'd had to step away from birth doula work, which I loved and was a huge part of my identity.  I wondered how I would be of service in work that felt meaningful to me. Our family had recently moved from a very rural area to a much more urban one, and I felt disconnected from nature and from a community. I'd been diagnosed with MS for some time, but the reality of how it had physically affected me really came crashing in.  I wondered who I was now that I wasn't a fully able-bodied person any more. My big kids had grown up and were out in the world doing their thing. My "babies" were pre-teen and becoming more self-sufficient by the day.  All of it compounded until I was truly in a deep state of depression.

For those who have lived with depression, you'll know that it can really take over every part of your life - mentally, emotionally, physically.  It is hard and all consuming.

Luckily, I'm privileged to have a supportive partner and friends and good health insurance.  Therapy and medication helped a lot and brought me out of the darkest parts of that time.  But for quite a while, it felt like there were "cobwebs" of that darkness clinging to me that I just couldn't shake.  I still needed to explore my identity and who I was now that these big transitions had happened.  I'd lost many of the tools I'd previously used for coping and comfort - prayer, worship music, the easy community that can happen when you show up once a week with the same folks.  I'd lost the identities that helped me feel like I was doing good in the world - mothering a big family, doula work, a community that I volunteered in and gave to.

I had no idea where to begin to get these feelings to shift or to begin to find my way back to myself again. I decided to begin saying "yes" to anything that felt even remotely interesting or appealing.  For so long, struggling through depression, nothing had felt doable or lit a spark for me, so I thought that might be a good first step - follow my "yes", follow that spark when I felt it.

I started exploring tarot and learning how to work with tarot and oracle cards and I began to plant seeds of getting in touch with my intuition for the first time.  Toxic religion had taught me that my gut feelings my thoughts, my wants and needs were compromised by my "sinful nature" and that my own inner voice was unreliable, I should only listen to religious leaders and an extremely old (and overly translated) book.  I began to see that my intuition was right and good and that my gut feelings could be trusted.

Another spark came when I first learned about Hakomi and on a whim I signed up for a workshop.  That led to a deep dive and studying somatics and mindfulness as it relates to listening to ourself and others.  People assigned female at birth often have so many reasons to disconnect from our bodies.  Our bodies can feel unsafe because of assault or objectification, or the pressures of our cultural beauty standards.  Somatics helped me begin to see a mind-body connection that was strong and wise.  So I began planting seeds of connecting with my own body, and listening to and honoring her.

I had used art journaling in the past, but hadn't had much of a creative practice for a while.  I began to create, work in an art journal, paint and doodle - just for the fun of it.  In doing so, I frequently used tarot/oracle cards as part of my art journaling process and began to gain a lot of personal insight into what was happening for me.  Art journaling allowed me to observe my experience and find interesting connections.  It helped me plant seeds of nurturing my creativity and gaining insights into why I did some of the things I did.

Mindfulness had always been a part of the way I facilitated support groups, but I began to get curious about bringing it into my daily life.  I started do mindfulness exercises when I thought about it throughout my days and I noticed a difference in my reactivity and my ability to re-center myself when something tipped me over.  I could see that mindfulness was a small, useful, and very accessible tool to help me be with my emotions - even when they felt big.  It helped calm me when I felt like the chaos of life was going to drag me under.  And it helped me not to "check out" or turn to numbing behaviors when things got hard.  Mindfulness helped me plant seeds of being more present in my own life.

I read the book "Saved by a Poem" by Kim Rosen and it brought poetry to life in a new way for me.  I wrote my first poem when I was about 4 years old, I used to read poetry with my Nan, and those were treasured memories.  I started to memorize some of my favorite poems and I found myself reciting them at times when I previously might have found prayer helpful.  Poetry and all the beauty and wisdom it holds is a kind of scripture to me, I found it comforting and sometimes challenging or bringing new perspectives.  So much of poetry contains universal truths.  Poetry can be a conversation with someone I will never know that helps me see the world in a different way. As I continued to work with poetry - reading, writing, and memorizing it - I could feel that I was planting the seeds of a new kind of spirituality for me and a connection to something that was bigger than myself.

What does all of that have to do with dahlias?

During that season of moving myself out of the darkness of depression, I was doing all of these things.  I truly was working hard to pull myself out of those last cobwebs of that pit.  It felt like I was working hard.  I was frequently uncomfortable.  I was moving my mind and emotions into different configurations that were not familiar to me.  I was trying new things and pulling out old ones - sorting through to get rid of the tools that no longer were viable for me, to find the fresh ones that would sprout and help me grow.

Every so often, I'd have a flash of understanding exactly *how much* work I was doing.  I'd "stand back" and give my life a look, expecting to be so proud of all I was doing, but honestly there wasn't a lot of growth yet.  I'd planted lots and lots of seeds, but my body-mind-soul still felt a bit like I was just surveying a big ol' patch of dirt.  I would wonder when things in my life would feel more bright and colorful.  Just about the only thing I could do was to lean into the things friends and teachers told me - it would get better, things would bloom - just have patience and keep watering all the things I'd planted.

Watering a dirt patch over and over and just hoping that they are right is not an easy task when it comes to dahlias or personal growth and healing.  It's dirty and muddy and there are worms crawling in it and you *know* that you've put a whole bunch of work in, but you are still just looking at dirt.  It takes hope and commitment and trust that the process WILL work.  I learned that community makes planting seeds and being patient easier - knowing that others are a little further along or have walked the same path is incredibly encouraging. I was lucky to have a community of people who kept showing up for me on the regular, kept reflecting back to me the work they were seeing, and kept reminding me that I would indeed bloom again.

Spoiler alert:  I did.

Those seeds I planted led to deeper connections to myself and my identity. I began to see more clearly who I was in this world again.  Those seeds bore the fruit of deeper connection to the natural world and community, to my body, my intuition.  Those seeds helped me nurture a connection to something bigger than myself outside of religion, and helped me see that I was a whole, wise, capable and creative human.  And eventually, those seeds began to coalesce into meaningful work I could offer the world through Seeds of Connection.

So my dahlias are beginning to bloom and I'm thinking back to early summer when my back was achy and my fingernails were caked with grime, and all I could see out my front window were piles of dirt.  But I believed in my work and I trusted the process.  It leads me to thinking of that season many years ago, where I was doing new things that weren't always comfortable, and I chronically felt like a hot mess. When I surveyed my personal internal "landscape", it felt like the equivalent of looking at piles of dirt.  Back then, I don't know that I truly understood what exactly I was doing or how to trust the process, but looking back, I'm so thankful I planted all of those seeds for myself.  The work of it was challenging at times, but there were sprouts, and growth and blooms eventually.

In this season, I'm looking at my dahlia patch as they are beginning to bloom and open up and I'm thankful for the hard work I put in - even when it wasn't very gratifying at first. And I'm reflecting on that time of diving in to mindfulness, somatics, poetry, art journaling, and aaaalllll the other seeds of connection & healing & growth that I'd planted and feeling so grateful to my past self for that challenging work and for sticking with it until it bloomed.

And much like dahlias, or collecting seeds from plants, that investment keeps bringing joy and color and blooms to the world, now through Seeds of Connection groups and my other work. More importantly than that, I understand myself more deeply, I feel grounded (even in the chaotic dumpster fire that life can be sometimes!), and I LIKE myself and what I bring to this world.

So have a look at these dahlia pics, maybe think about what seeds YOU might like to plant in your life.  I'm curious:  would a Seeds of Connection group help support you in your next steps toward healing and growth?