How to Propagate Achillea nana
The tiny, feathery leaves of Achillea nana, whispering secrets of sun-drenched slopes, beckoned me closer. Propagation, I learned, wouldn’t be a gentle stroll. Seedlings, frail ghosts, refused to thrive. Cuttings, defiant in their stubborn refusal to root, tested my patience. Then, the earth yielded its treasure: a sturdy clump, patiently coaxed apart. Each division, a tiny promise, held the weight of anticipation. The scent of rich soil, the cool touch of the earth, sealed the pact. Weeks later, the sight of new growth – a quiet triumph, a whispered affirmation of resilience – rewarded my perseverance, an echo of the dwarf yarrow’s own tenacious spirit.