By Kathryn Miles
Photos by Kelsey Kobik
From our September 2025 issue
Between the thin, rocky soil that covers much of the state and a growing season that never feels quite long enough, gardening is ever a labor of love in Maine. Growing something as showy and brilliant as a dahlia in these conditions might sound like an almost preposterous proposition. That, though, is precisely what Carol and Roger Hewitt do. Every summer, at their Highfields Farm, in Hope, the couple raises and sells hundreds of those tall, flamboyant flowers with the intricate geometry and seemingly countless possible colors. “It’s the kind of addiction that will change your life,” Carol says. “They’re just so beautiful.”
Trellis netting supports the top-heavy plants on the Hewitts’ farm, where they sell bouquets arrayed on an antique market wagon Roger restored.
Dahlias have their roots in much friendlier climes. The ancient Aztecs were first to cultivate them, using their starchy tubers for food (now, dahlias are the national flower of Mexico). Even in their native range, though, they can be finicky, requiring the soil temperature, acidity, and moisture to be just right. And they pose a particular challenge somewhere as northerly as Maine, because they have no tolerance for frost.
Every fall, on the 20-acre property where the couple has lived for more than 40 years, amid old stone walls, winding paths, and garden beds, Roger cuts back his and Carol’s 300 or so dahlia plants with a machete, then digs up the delicate tubers. Together, they label each one before packing them into boxes of peat moss and storing them in the farm’s garage for the winter. In early April, the Hewitts begin to coax the tubers out of hibernation, first in pots they line up in Roger’s workshop and, after the last threat of frost, back into raised beds. “We used to have other hobbies,” Roger jokes. “Now we just care and weed.”
For years, Carol incorporated dahlias into mixed perennial borders, but space was limited and digging up the tubers endangered the other plants. So, in 2018, Roger built the first of the couple’s 20 raised beds dedicated exclusively to dahlias. This season, they are cultivating 120 varieties — out of the 57,000 varieties recognized by Britain’s Royal Horticultural Society, the product of thousands of years of cross-pollination effected by both insects and humans. Carol knows each type she’s growing by name and tends to the flowers with the doting care that grandchildren might warrant. “This is Coralie,” she said on an August afternoon last year, cradling a bright-pink one with a champagne center. “She’s quite pretty.” Among the other varieties around her were Hamilton Lillian, a tidy peach blossom, and Drummer Boy, a dramatic velvet red that has always been Roger’s favorite. “Each one has a story,” Carol said. “You can’t help but love them.”
The Hewitts plant dahlia tubers in indoor pots in early April, then transfer them to raised beds in early June. This encourages the plants to begin blooming in late July, rather than the more typical late August.
Come late summer, the Hewitts harvest the dahlias and arrange them into rich, jewel-like bouquets, sold at an honor-system stand on their property. Customers are welcome to wander among the labeled flowers in their raised beds, and the couple donates tubers to the plant sale at the local elementary school. It’s a sense of community, Carol says, that makes cultivating dahlias worth all the work.
Around the world, dahlias have a habit of inspiring passionate fans, who trade tubers and swap guidance. The Hewitts often get asked for growing advice or for information on how to track down a rare variety, and they’re happy to try and point fellow aficionados in the right direction. “It’s people helping people,” Carol said. “That’s the real beauty.”
