Scabiosa

Scabiosa is one of those flowers that people walk past in garden centres without a second glance, and I find this genuinely baffling. Look at it properly. Each flower is a perfect dome of tiny florets — the outer ones long and frilly, the inner ones short and dense — creating this intricate, domed pincushion effect that is far more complex and interesting than most things people actually stop to admire.

Butterfly Blue is a compact variety that flowers from June right through to the first frosts, which is an absurd amount of generosity from a plant that costs about four quid from any decent nursery. The colour is a soft lavender-blue that photographs badly but looks wonderful in real life — it has a warmth and depth that screens never quite capture.

Butterflies and bees are obsessed with it. On a warm afternoon, my scabiosa patch is a flight path, a landing strip, a refuelling station. I've counted five different butterfly species on a single plant in August. If you care about pollinators — and you should — this is one of the best things you can plant.

As a cut flower, scabiosa is an absolute secret weapon. Those wiry, dancing stems add movement and airiness to any bunch. Mixed with garden roses and sweet peas, they bring the lightness that stops an arrangement from looking stiff. Florists know this. Now you do too.

The seed heads are nearly as good as the flowers — perfect little spheres that dry beautifully and look like tiny planets. I leave them on as long as possible. They're architectural, they feed the goldfinches, and they remind me that beauty doesn't end when the petals drop.