Coreopsis Magic: How One Bloom Lit Up My Garden
What You'll Discover in This Post
In this expanded garden diary entry, I'll take you through:
The exact moment I noticed this bright yellow wildflower shining in my Soshanguve garden. My emotional reaction and how it shifted my whole afternoon. What this flower is (Coreopsis/Tickseed) and why it thrives effortlessly in North Pretoria heat. How the blooms, buds, and stems reveal the plant's resilience and personality. Personal memories this flower awakened from my childhood. How I grow and care for it in our harsh Gauteng climate. Its relationship with pollinators in my garden. Why it's perfect for a water scarce yard like mine. The lessons it silently taught me about patience, timing, and blooming in my own life. A warm, reflective conclusion that ties the whole journey together
Introduction: When a Flower Comes Into Your Life at the Perfect Time
Actually, I was not even thinking of doing some gardening that morning. Do you know those lazy Soshanguve mornings when the sun rises so softly that it makes you feel like you have the whole day to yourself? That was exactly the mood. I went outside only to stretch my legs and maybe to see if the ants that were harassing my spinach bed had finally gone away.
But life is unpredictable in a way that it gives you a moment when you least expect it.
When I was just passing the corner where the grass meets the soft sandy soil, something very bright made me look again, a yellow burst that was so loud and so daring that I had to quit my walk immediately. The flower was not a timid one. It wasn't hiding under leaves or leaning away from the light. It was standing up straight, glowing like it had something to say.
And that's how this yellow flower introduced herself to me.
There she was, a fearless little sun resting on a green stem. My whole morning paused because of her.
The Flower That Didn't Ask for Permission to Shine
As I bent closer, placing my shadow over her delicate petals, something inside me softened. The petals were perfectly spaced, slightly toothed at the edges with that warm golden center that almost looked like a tiny sun inside another sun. She was open. Confident. Present.
I felt like she was talking to me without words.
Right there I knew this was Coreopsis the beloved Tickseed that often grows wild, spreading little fireworks of yellow wherever the soil feels friendly enough. I've seen it in veld patches around Gauteng, on dusty roadsides, even forgotten corners near taxi ranks where nothing else really tries to grow.
But seeing it in my garden? That felt personal.
A Flower That Grew Where She Wanted
What makes this more beautiful is that I didn't plant her. She chose this spot. She settled here. She felt the heat and decided this was home. And something about that made me feel emotional like she arrived to remind me that beauty doesn't always need planning. Sometimes it just needs space.
I lifted her with a gentle hand and as I felt the thin, pliable stem and the round bud next to her, I understood how delicate she appeared however, she manages to grow in the desert, drought, storm, and bad earth like a winner.
It is sometimes true that the strongest things in the world are the ones that don't show their strength. They just live.
Why This Flower Belongs in Soshanguve
Living in Gauteng's northern dryness isn't easy on plants. Some look fine in the nursery, but once the sun hits them the way our sun hits… they give up. But Coreopsis? She thrives here like she was born on this soil.
Here's what I've learned growing her in Soshanguve:
She loves full sunlight even the harsh mid day heat.
She grows happily in our sandy, fast draining soil.
She's extremely drought tolerant, perfect for my water scarce yard.
She keeps blooming even when I'm busy and forgetful.
Every deadheaded flower leads to more flowers.
She's what I call a "no complaints plant."
Even on the days when my energy is low, when the house feels heavy, when the chores feel endless this flower still shows up for me.
The Buds That Whisper Their Own Story
What really caught my heart were the many rounded buds surrounding the open flower. Some were still tightly closed, small and green. Others were just about to pop, their yellow tips stretching through the casing.
Life is like that, some parts of us blooming, some parts preparing, some still hidden but full of potential.
It reminded me to slow down. To let my own buds open at their own time instead of trying to force everything to happen at once.
In this last image, the flower looks like it's lit from inside. The sunlight loves her, and she loves it back. She looks proud. She looks alive. She looks like the center of her own small world.
A Flower That Brought Back My Childhood
Seeing flowers like this always sends me back to the Soshanguve of my childhood where gardens weren't designed, they were inherited. Plants didn't come from nurseries; they came from neighbours. Seeds traveled in old newspaper packets. A cutting from Auntie Mmapula's yard would be found in your granny's garden months later.
Coreopsis feels exactly like that kind of flower humble but powerful, wild but beautiful, the kind of plant that moves through communities quietly, carried by birds, wind, and memories.
How I Grow Coreopsis in My Garden
She's easy, but I still give her some love:
I grow her in full sun, where she gets light for most of the day.
The soil is just my normal sandy yard soil with a little compost mixed in months ago.
I water her lightly, but not every day she doesn't like soggy roots.
And the secret?
When a flower dies, I cut it off softly, and in less than a week, I can see new buds growing.
Through the plant, I am learning the cycles death always bringing life, dying always being followed by coming back, releasing always being creating more room.
Pollinators Can't Resist Her
One thing I love about Coreopsis is how she calls the insects. Bees hover over her like she's serving free breakfast. Tiny beetles settle on her petals. Hoverflies land with purpose.
In a garden such as mine where pollinators are a must for tomatoes, eggplants, peppers, okra, and roselle, this flower is the one that seems to attract them the most. She doesn't simply flower she creates a community that is dependent on her.
That's the thing about generous plants. They give more than they take.
A Message Hidden in Her Petals
As I stood there staring at her, I felt like the flower was reminding me of something important:
You don't need perfect conditions to bloom.
You don't need approval.
You don't need to look around to see who's watching.
You just open up when you're ready.
That's enough.
That message hit me deeper than I expected.
Why I Want a Whole Field of These
After spending time with this one bloom, I realised I want more. A whole patch. A whole walkway lined with these sunbursts. Flowers that make you smile without trying. Flowers that stay even when the rain forgets them. Flowers that teach you something without speaking.
A garden is a diary and Coreopsis is the kind of entry that brightens the entire page.
Conclusion: The Flower That Returned My Peace
When I finally released my grip on the stem and took a step back, the flower seemed to float its little thank you in the wind.
I went away with less heaviness on my shoulders, more peace in my heart, and a smile that was not there when I got up. This yellow flower didn't just bloom she lifted something in me.
Some flowers stay in your garden.
Some flowers stay in your memory.
This one stayed in both.
