
I have never been so happy to see seed catalogues land in my mailbox as this year. As they have arrived the past few days and weeks, I’ve started to realize that these print “relics” are not only a lifeline connecting us with the past, an admirably tactile holdout in the face of the Internetification of everything. They are also that annual refreshing tonic of horticultural hope, and a beacon of normalcy in this mad world of ours.
Mine are mostly glossy, with a floriferous bias, and unused for actual ordering. But as reading material, inspiration and dreamy fantasy, they are extra-treasured companions – this January in particular.

As the catalogues pile up, we have a dizzying abundance of plants to select from – so many new and familiar faces. They often look intriguing, sometimes they seem impossible but still enticing, and, occasionally, I can’t quite tell which from the photo. Some get circled, pages get dog eared, and certain newbies are researched further or checked against other catalogues for pricing.
This reassuringly perennial tradition soothes and calms the dark days of winter. We can still imagine and envision. There will be a summer ahead. The garden will return and within it we will find solace and delight.

There are some extra-enticing seed catalogue descriptions that rise to the level of, well, flowery language. My favorite so far is from Hudson Valley Seed Co.:
“Flowers are the cushions of life, there to soothe us through the intense and upsetting moments that are part of the human experience. They proclaim: Life persists! Beauty persists! Delight in color! Delight in the present moment! Pincushion Flower, also known as Scabiosa, speaks in a quiet but abundant way, its profuse compact blooms form a constellation above pretty leaves, and its naturally long stems make it great for cutting. In the home or in the garden, these pincushions will absorb your sharp edges.”
Yes, please! I’ll take two.
Vintage images from Smithsonian open source
I couldn’t agree more as I survey the still standing and frozen 17″ of snow on my property!
Spring feels far away, doesn’t it? Hope you get some melting soon!
Beautiful description of catalogues! I heartily agree that having a tangible, NOT digital, collection of plants or seeds is what I need in winter. I have kept catalogues for years. I’m possibly a hoarder in that area. It gives a small picture of history, snapshots of what was popular, price changes and how tastes have changed. Thanks for writing this even though it does reinforce my bad habit of “collecting” paper.
Not a bad habit at all- the archivists will be beating a path to your door some day! Enjoy your stash.
I’m with Barbara B. Indeed, not a “bad habit” at all.
Personally, I do keep a lot of paper products,
having some spent some 30-ish years in print production — editing, writing, copy editing, project manager and Collector. Editorial and advertising, both.
I say Brava to you & Barbara both!
Also, I never use the word “hoarding” with its snippy negative connotations.
But I do call myself a “pack rat” after a cocktail or two.
Being a “print relic” myself, I treasure the
garden catalogs and savor them. Have chosen several companies to contact for physical catalogs.
Thank you, Barbara, for this charming, well-written article. Will share soon w some online gardening friends.
Thank you, Diane—for your service to print publication, as well as the kind comments!