How To Pull Flax For Fibre | Harvesting & Rippling Northern Princess In Derbyshire

Harvesting Northern Princess By Hand Flax In Riddings, Derbyshire

By the 19th October 2026, my Northern Princess flax had been growing in my front garden in Riddings, Derbyshire, for 182 days, and some of it was still flowering. I'd spent weeks watching it, trying to decide when to harvest, and by now the plants were doing a remarkable job of confusing me. There were brown, dry-looking stems standing alongside bright green ones, seed bolls at every imaginable stage of development, and even plants carrying mature brown capsules and fresh green growth at the same time. With frost forecast, I decided I couldn't keep waiting for them all to agree that autumn had arrived. It was time to pull the flax. I'd sown Northern Princess on 20 April, alongside my more familiar Avian flax, which I'd already harvested and retted. Northern Princess had behaved very differently, continuing to grow long after I expected it to mature. I'd explored that dilemma in my earlier article, When To Harvest Flax For Fibre, but deciding when to harvest turned out to be only the beginning. Actually pulling, sorting and removing the seed bolls from this extraordinarily mixed crop presented a whole new collection of questions. And, as so often happens when I'm working with flax, the plants weren't particularly interested in following the instructions I'd read.

How To Pull Flax For Fibre & Why Pulling Matters

Flax grown for linen fibre is traditionally pulled from the ground, roots and all, rather than cut above the soil. The valuable bast fibres run along the stems, and pulling helps preserve as much of their length as possible. Long, relatively straight stems are particularly desirable when producing line flax, although shorter fibres can also be used for spinning and other textile processes. It sounds straightforward enough when you read about it. Standing in a wet Derbyshire garden, trying to persuade plants with very different root systems to leave the ground, is another matter. I began by clearing weeds from between the stems. The soil in my front garden is heavy Derbyshire clay, and after the rain it was wet and cloddy. The flax was wet too, which made it difficult to judge whether the brown stems were brittle or simply flexible because of the moisture. I gathered small handfuls, trying to keep the stems aligned as I pulled them upwards, and filmed some of the process so I could record what harvesting actually involved. I wanted to capture more than a photograph of a tidy bundle afterwards, particularly because I was beginning to notice how differently the plants responded.

Examining A Freshly Pulled Northern Princess Flax Plant

For anyone wondering how to pull flax by hand, I found that working with manageable handfuls was much easier than trying to grab large, tangled bundles. I tried to keep the stems together and aligned as I pulled upwards. When a plant resisted, gripping it high up wasn't necessarily helpful. Some came free easily, while others required me to move my grip toward the base, where I could pull without putting as much strain on the stem. The seed heads were another complication, catching on neighbouring plants and occasionally dropping mature bolls onto the ground. It wasn't a particularly tidy process, but working slowly gave me a better chance of keeping the stems organised and recovering the seeds.

Three Plants And Three Very Different Experiences

The first surprise was how much resistance I encountered.

One fully mature plant, measuring 27 inches overall including its roots, with 24 inches of unbranched stem, came out remarkably easily. I could grip it near the top and pull it from the soil with little difficulty. Its taproot was comparatively thin and slender. Another plant, measuring 40 inches overall including its roots, with 35.5 inches of unbranched stem, was much harder to remove. This extraordinary specimen carried both mature brown and green seed bolls, and its thicker, curved taproot seemed determined to stay in the ground. Pulling from the middle of the stem didn't work, so I eventually had to grip it near the base. But the biggest surprise was a short, bushy plant from the front row.

Comparing The Roots & Lower Stems Of Three Northern Princess Flax Plants

At just 13 inches overall, including its roots, it was the smallest of my three measured specimens and the hardest to pull. Its stem thickened near the base, its branches began much lower, and its roots were more extensively branched. People had repeatedly trampled this part of the bed as they got out of a parked car. Many of the plants had died, while those that survived were shorter and bushier, with fewer neighbours competing for space. I wondered whether the damage, reduced competition, or changes in root development had contributed to their unusual appearance, but I couldn't tell the cause just by looking at them.

Comparing Three Northern Princess Flax Plants With Different Growth & Maturity

I became increasingly fascinated by these differences. I'd expected to pull a crop of flax, sort it into bundles and get on with the next stage. Instead, I was measuring individual plants, examining their roots and wondering why one came out so easily while another seemed determined to hang on to Derbyshire for dear life. It was a useful reminder that even plants growing in the same small garden can have quite different stories to tell.

Northern Princess Flax — Three Individual Plants

Mixed-Maturity Plant

Overall Length, Including Roots: 40 inches

Unbranched Stem: 35.5 inches

Seed Development: Brown and green bolls

Root Appearance: Thicker, curved taproot

Pulling Experience: Needed gripping at the base

Fully Mature Plant

Overall Length, Including Roots: 27 inches

Unbranched Stem: 24 inches

Seed Development: Mature brown bolls

Root Appearance: Slender taproot

Pulling Experience: Easiest to pull

Damaged Plant

Overall Length, Including Roots: 13 inches

Stem Form: Branched near the base

Seed Development: No bolls harvested

Root Appearance: Thickened base, lateral roots

Pulling Experience: Hardest to pull

These are three individual observations, not averages or representative samples. I can't conclude that longer plants are harder to pull, or that trampling caused the damaged plants to develop stronger roots. But I can record the differences I actually saw, keep the plants identifiable and return to these questions when I examine the fibres. I'm particularly interested in the short, damaged flax because my artistic practice isn't exclusively concerned with producing perfect, uniform linen. Through my Irregular Thread research, I'm exploring the possibilities of flax fibre, spinning and intentionally imperfect yarns. I'm interested in what materials can become, including fibres that might be too short, irregular or awkward for more conventional processing. The damaged plants may turn out to be useful, disappointing or surprising. I want to find out rather than discard them before I've tried.

My Northern Princess Harvest Record

I've kept a record of the dates and the different groups because I'm interested in whether the variations I saw during growing and harvesting will make a difference when I begin processing the fibre.

Harvest Detail	My Record
Flax Variety	Northern Princess
Growing Location	Front garden, Riddings, Derbyshire, England
Soil	Heavy clay
Position	Full sun
Sown	20 April 2026
Growing Period	182 days
Harvest Groups	Four, based on maturity and plant condition
Pulled	19 October 2026
Dried For Rippling	20 October 2026
Rippling	21 October 2026
Dew Retting Started	21 October 2026

This is one growing season in one garden, not a controlled scientific trial. I haven't tested the seed for germination or the stems for fibre quality. But having the dates, photographs and observations together gives me something to return to as the experiment develops.

Sorting A Harvest That Didn't Want To Be Sorted

Once I'd pulled the flax, I discovered another problem. The seed heads had become thoroughly tangled, especially where the plants had produced many branches. Every time I tried to separate one stem from another, the seed bolls caught together, and more capsules dropped onto the ground. I spent a considerable amount of time recovering brown bolls from the wet soil, along with loose seeds and bits of plant material. I'd wanted to save the seed, but the more carefully I tried to disentangle everything, the more I seemed to disturb it. Eventually I decided to stop trying to separate every individual plant and sort the harvest into four broad groups. The first contained the mature-looking brown and grey stems. The second contained plants with a mixture of brown and green growth. The third contained longer, predominantly green stems, some still flowering. The fourth contained the short, bushy survivors from the trampled front row. Some plants didn't fit neatly into any group, of course, but this was a practical way to keep their most obvious differences visible without spending the entire day untangling seed heads.

Four Groups Of Northern Princess Flax Sorted By Maturity & Condition

I photographed the four groups and kept them separate under the covered porch while I decided how to tackle the next stage. That separation has become an important part of this experiment. Rather than combine everything into one bundle and hope for the best, I want to find out whether the differences I've observed during growing and harvesting continue to matter when I process the fibre.

One Plant With Brown & Green Seed Bolls

Green & Brown Seed Bolls Collected From One Northern Princess Flax Plant

One of the most puzzling discoveries came from a single green, branching flax stem. Halfway along it was a brown seed boll, even though several others on the same plant were still green. I hadn't photographed the bolls while they were attached, but I removed them from the same stem and laid the brown and green ones side by side on the car bonnet. The photograph shows two very different stages of seed development from one individual plant. I found this fascinating because it made me question what maturity actually looked like in my Northern Princess flax. The brown bolls appeared more mature, but their colour alone couldn't tell me whether the seeds inside were viable. When I opened a brown boll, I counted nine brown seeds. A green boll from the same plant also contained nine seeds, although these were pale and visibly less developed. I also photographed some opened bolls and the seeds laid out on the car bonnet to keep a visual record of what I found inside. I also counted the bolls on several other plants and found considerable variation, including one specimen with around 40 intact bolls. These observations raised questions about seed production, branching and maturity, but I don't yet have enough evidence to explain the differences. The contrast between the brown and green bolls became particularly important when I began rippling.

Counting Seeds From Mature Northern Princess Flax Bolls

I was also curious about how many seeds each mature flax boll should contain. A flax boll has five chambers, each capable of producing two seeds, for a maximum of ten, though six to eight seeds per boll is more common. I began opening mature Northern Princess bolls and carefully laying out their seeds in small groups to count them. One mature brown boll contained nine seeds, surprisingly close to the maximum. But I wanted to understand what was typical across my own plants rather than judge the whole harvest by one boll. The photograph shows some opened seed capsules and the seeds I counted as I began investigating the average number produced by my mature Northern Princess flax.

What Is Rippling Flax?

Rippling is the traditional process of removing seed heads from flax before retting. It is usually done with a specially made ripple, rather like a coarse metal comb, which catches the seed bolls as the stems are pulled through it. Smaller quantities can also be processed by hand, which is the method I chose for my Northern Princess harvest. Removing the bolls allows the seeds to be collected separately and makes the stems easier to arrange for fibre processing. I've included a photograph from an earlier flax harvest showing me removing seed bolls with my fingers over a tray. Although it isn't from this particular experiment, it shows how to ripple without using a comb.

Rippling Flax By Hand Without A Traditional Comb

I pulled my Northern Princess flax on 19 October and dried it on 20 October to prepare for rippling the following day. By 21 October, the weather had become too wet for comfortable outdoor work, so I brought the flax indoors and began removing the seed bolls by hand over collection trays. The fine, branching stems had already caused problems during harvesting, tangling with one another and catching on neighbouring seed heads. Even now, I found myself carefully teasing some stems apart with my fingers before removing the bolls. It was delicate, fiddly work, particularly when the greener capsules refused to come away easily. I'd also realised that if I laid the plants outside for dew retting with their seed heads still attached, the local pigeons might make rather short work of my seed harvest. That was another reason to recover as many bolls as I reasonably could before putting the flax outside.

Hand Rippling Northern Princess Flax Indoors In October 2026

I worked through the four harvest groups separately, keeping their seed collections identifiable and taking photographs as I went. It quickly became clear that rippling wasn't going to be the same job for every group. Some of the mature brown bolls came away relatively easily, while the greener ones seemed determined to stay attached. Rather than pull too hard and risk damaging the long stems I wanted for fibre, I began adapting what I was doing to suit the different plants. I was learning that rippling a mixed maturity harvest involved quite a few decisions, and that completing every stage exactly as the instructions suggested wasn't necessarily the best approach for the flax growing in my Derbyshire garden.

The Fully Mature Flax

The mature group gave me the most straightforward seed harvest. I removed a substantial collection of predominantly brown bolls, eventually filling two glass jars for the photographs. Some capsules were already opening, and loose seeds fell out as I handled them. The stems were easier to work with than those in the greener groups, although the branching tops could still become tangled. It was satisfying to collect the seed bolls after all those months of growing, especially knowing I could now examine the seeds separately from the stems. I didn't weigh the harvest or measure its volume, so the jars are a photographic record rather than a reliable comparison of yield. But they show what I'd recovered from the mature plants and give me something to compare visually with the other groups.

Mature Northern Princess Flax Seed Bolls Collected By Hand

The Semi-Mature Flax Refused To Co-operate

The semi-mature group was quite another matter. Its seed heads contained brown, yellowing and green bolls, sometimes on the same branching stem, and the green capsules were extremely difficult to remove. They seemed much more firmly attached than the brown ones, and trying to pull them free risked disturbing the long stems and tangling everything together again. I managed to collect a mix of brown and green bolls, but I recovered noticeably fewer than from the fully mature flax. This wasn't necessarily because the plants had produced fewer bolls, but because so many of the greener ones refused to come away. Eventually I decided to stop. I could have continued trying to achieve a perfectly rippled bundle, but protecting the fibre bearing stems seemed more important. I left the stubborn bolls attached and photographed the mixture I had managed to collect. The difference between the two harvest groups was becoming increasingly clear.

Brown & Green Seed Bolls Collected From Semi-Mature Northern Princess Flax

Choosing to leave some of the green bolls attached, rather than risk damaging the stems, was one of the most useful decisions I made that day. Traditional instructions often describe a sequence of processes as though each stage can be completed before moving on to the next. In practice, I had a crop with plants at very different stages of maturity, and the method that worked reasonably well for the brown flax didn't work nearly as well for the green stems. Rather than force the material to conform to the instructions, I decided to adapt what I was doing and document the result. I later discovered that the writer of To Ripple Or Not To Ripple, on the Local Color Dyes blog, had experienced similar difficulties with seed bolls clinging to flax stems and disrupting the bundles. They also explored leaving bolls attached rather than insisting on complete rippling. It's reassuring to find other growers asking similar questions, although their experience doesn't establish how my Northern Princess will behave during dew retting.

The Flax That Was Still Flowering

The third group contained long green stems with leaves, developing seed bolls and even a few flowers. It still seems extraordinary that these plants were flowering in October after being sown in April. I attempted to ripple them too, but as with the semi mature group, many of the green bolls remained firmly attached. Looking at the photograph, you can see how much green growth and how many seed bolls were still attached to the stems. Again, I stopped rather than damage the stems, accepting that some leaves, flowers and seed bolls would remain attached when the flax went outside for retting.

Brown & Green Seed Bolls & Flowers Collected From Still Flowering Northern Princess Flax

I did manage to remove a small collection of capsules and flowering material, which I kept separate from the semi-mature seed harvest. When I spread everything out to photograph it, there were brown and green bolls, pieces of leafy growth and even a few purple flowers. The amount I'd recovered was noticeably smaller than from the fully mature flax, although I hadn't weighed or counted the collections, so this was a visual comparison rather than a measured difference in yield. It was another reminder of just how varied the stages of development were within this extraordinary harvest.

Northern Princess Flax Still Flowering In October 2026

I don't yet know whether those remaining green bolls will affect the way the stems ret. They may soften or break down alongside the other plant material, and I'll need to watch for uneven decomposition. That uncertainty is one reason I'm keeping the four groups separate.

And The Short, Damaged Flax?

The final group needed no rippling at all. These were the short, bushy plants from the trampled front row, and I found no seed bolls to harvest. Their growth was predominantly green and leafy, with thickened stem bases and branches developing close to the ground. I'm still going to ret them. In fact, I'm particularly interested in what happens to this group because its plants look so different from the long, straight stems usually associated with linen production. Perhaps they'll produce useful short fibres. Perhaps they'll be better suited to cordage or irregular yarns. Or perhaps processing them will reveal something I haven't anticipated. At this stage, I simply don't know, and I don't want to decide they're worthless before I've tried.

Drying The Seed Harvest On Linen

Once I'd finished rippling, I photographed the collected seed bolls in five glass jars, keeping the different harvest groups identifiable. Two jars contained the mature brown bolls, two held the mixed semi-mature collection, and the fifth held the much smaller collection from the flowering plants.

Five Jars Of Northern Princess Flax Seed Bolls From Three Harvest Groups

These weren't measured quantities, so I can't reliably compare seed yield, but the photographs show the differences in what I managed to collect.

The green bolls needed particular care because they still contained moisture. I spread the collections onto a clean linen tea towel indoors, separating the small flowering-group sample from the larger semi-mature collection. The bolls will need time to dry thoroughly, with enough air circulating around them to prevent mould, before I can think about longer-term storage. Some of the green capsules may change colour as they dry, but that won't necessarily mean the seeds inside have become viable. There was something rather pleasing about drying my flax seed bolls on a linen tea towel. It brought the whole process back to the material I was hoping to make, even though the journey from green plant to usable fibre still had several stages to go.

Northern Princess Flax Seed Bolls Drying On A Linen Tea Towel

What Did This Harvest Teach Me?

I began this harvest wondering whether I'd waited too long to pull Northern Princess. By the time I'd finished, I had a rather different collection of questions. Why were some plants so much harder to pull than others? What had happened to the short, damaged stems? Why were some plants still flowering while others had fully brown seed bolls? Would the differences in stem length and maturity affect the fibres? And how much effort should I put into removing seed heads when doing so risked damaging the material I actually wanted to use? I don't have all the answers, but I now have something more useful than a perfectly tidy harvest. I have dated photographs, three measured plants, four separately identified groups, records of the seed bolls collected and a much clearer understanding of the practical difficulties of rippling mixed-maturity flax. I've also been reminded that making materials from plants involves continual decisions, compromises and surprises. Sometimes the most useful thing I can do as an artist is pay attention to what is happening rather than insist that the process goes exactly as planned.

On 21 October 2026, I began dew retting all four groups of Northern Princess flax, including the partially rippled green stems and the short, damaged plants. I laid them out separately because I want to find out whether the differences I've been recording will matter once the fibres begin to separate. It's an experiment that might produce some lovely fibre, some very odd fibre, or a collection of new problems I haven't even thought of yet. For now, the flax is outside, the seed bolls are drying indoors, and I'm watching the weather again. After 182 days of growing, a difficult harvest and an unexpectedly stubborn session of rippling, I have a feeling Northern Princess hasn't finished keeping me busy. I'll tell you what happens during dew retting in the next post.

Further Reading

To see how this harvest connects with my wider work as a contemporary community textile artist, explore my Riddings Community Flax Project and my account of processing flax by hand.

If you are beginning your own flax-growing experiments, you can also read my Growing European Flax At Home.

For another grower's experience of difficult seed-head removal, see To Ripple Or Not To Ripple — Local Color Dyes.

For the earlier stage of my own experiment, read When To Harvest Flax For Fibre | Waiting For Northern Princess.