The garden
Sylvia plants, the bees choose. These are the flowers behind the taste of our harvests: what each one gives the bees, and what gardeners say about it.
Perovskia atriplicifolia
July to September
For the bees
When the meadow scorches in high summer, its lavender-blue spikes stay full of nectar. One of the busiest beds in the garden, morning to evening.
The tradition
A close cousin of the sages, with silvery, camphor-scented foliage. Crush a leaf and the scent stays on your fingers — slugs and deer keep away; the bees don’t.
Kniphofia uvaria
June to September
For the bees
Each orange spike is a row of tubular flowers full of nectar. Behind it, the blue globes of the echinops and the white yarrow round out the summer buffet.
The tradition
The yarrow in the foreground is a herbalist’s classic, traditionally taken as an infusion. The poker itself is there for the nectar — and the show.
Rosa
May to the frosts
For the bees
Single and semi-double roses keep their heart open: bees gather plenty of pollen there, especially in the morning, before the heat closes the day down.
The tradition
Petals go into rose water or jam; in autumn the hips, naturally rich in vitamin C, make an excellent syrup.
Calamintha nepeta
July to the frosts
For the bees
A cloud of tiny white flowers that never empties: for three months running, the most foraged plant in the garden.
The tradition
A cousin of mint, traditionally infused after meals in southern France and Italy. You catch its menthol scent just brushing past the bed.
Dahlia
July to the frosts
For the bees
We pick single and semi-double varieties with a visible heart: their pollen takes over late in the season. Above them, milky bellflowers stretch the table even further.
The tradition
Before it was a cut flower, the dahlia was grown by the Aztecs for its edible tubers.
Verbena bonariensis
June to the frosts
For the bees
Its mauve clusters, perched at head height, are a nectar bar for bees and butterflies until the first frosts.
The tradition
An ornamental cousin of the herbalist’s vervains; at its feet, lemon verbena scents the evening infusions.
Rudbeckia fulgida
July to October
For the bees
Its dark centre works as a landing strip: easy, plentiful pollen at the end of summer.
The tradition
Same family as the echinaceas. Its job here is simple: feed the late-season foragers and light up the bed.
The traditional uses mentioned here belong to garden lore, not medical advice: our honey is a food, nothing more.