The orange flower that covers Mexico during the Day of the Dead is at risk due to climate change

Mexico City – Lucia Ortíz trudges through endless fields of marigold flowers, whose luminescent orange petals will soon cover everything from city streets to cemeteries across Mexico.

Here, in the winding canals and farms on the outskirts of Mexico City, the flower also known as flower of the dead has been cultivated for generations and each year takes center stage in the country’s Day of the Dead celebrations.

But as Ortíz, 50, and other farmers rush to package bunches of the plant to sell in the capital’s markets, they silently wonder what will remain of their livelihood in the future.

That’s because marigold farmers say they have been hit by torrential rains, drought and other impacts of climate change — caused by the burning of fuels like gas, oil and coal — that have become increasingly common.

Farmers, who depend on the ebbs and flows of the climate to grow their crops, are on the front lines of the climate crisis. This year alone, marigold growers said they lost up to half of their flower crop due to heavy rains and flooding.

“This year we lost a lot. We struggled even to grow marigolds. There were times when we didn’t have the money to buy the fertilizer we needed,” Ortíz said. “With the marigold plants, sometimes we have been left with nothing.”

The orange flower has become a symbol of the country’s celebrations that take place every November 1 and 2. Also known as the “flower of the dead,” the marigold is believed to be a connection point between the worlds of the dead and the living, with bright petals illuminating the path of dead souls to the altars set up by their family.

Flowers are also a crucial economic driver throughout Mexico, which trade groups predict will raise nearly $2.7 million for farmers in 2025.

Ortíz and his family began growing the flower 30 years ago on their small plot of land in Xochimilco, a rural district in the south of Mexico City, where residents have continued to carry out ancient agricultural techniques using canals that wind through farmland like a maze.

Each year, locals begin planting marigold seeds in July and grow the plants as the rainy season ends. But they say they have been hit hard for years in a row, as heavy rains, drought, floods and other climate changes have made it increasingly difficult to keep their crops alive.

This year, torrential rains that lasted for months devastated more than 14,973 hectares of crops across the country, according to government figures. On a visit to marigold fields earlier this month in Xochimilco, Mexico City Mayor Clara Brugada said up to 2 million marigold plants were at risk.

Despite that, he said this year’s production simultaneously broke a record of 6 million plants as farmers ramp up production to meet growing demand, even as cultivation of the flower has become more precarious.

Ortíz said that excess rain has caused pests, diseases and has rotted the roots of his plants. She estimates she lost at least 30% of her crop, while others say they have lost close to 50%.

The family has been forced to spend money on insecticides, fertilizers and more to save their crops. As they have, razor-thin profit margins have turned into losses and they have had to cut back on staples like beef and candy to make ends meet.

“If I looked closely at all of our losses, I would be incredibly disappointed and wouldn’t even want to farm them anymore,” she said. “We’re just trying to move forward and make sure this thing moves forward.”

Just down the street from Ortíz’s farm, government scientists are looking for long-term solutions beyond the short-term economic relief provided by the local government. At a small seed bank known as Toxinachcal, men in white suits meticulously examine sprouts in a laboratory dish.

Scientists have been working for a year and a half saving thousands of seed variants of native plant species, including 20 marigold variants, in jars lining giant freezers in hopes that the storage facility will be a key tool in combating the most adverse effects of climate change.

Biologist Clara Soto Cortés, head of the seed bank, said part of the reason the crop has been devastated is because farmers in recent years have chosen to use a hybrid marigold seed variant from the United States.

The seed produces a shorter, more uniform-looking plant that is easier to sell en masse and in places like supermarkets.

But that means farmers have moved away from hardier native breeds, which have longer stems and vary widely in color, size and texture. The genetic diversity of these Mexican breeds makes them more resistant to drastic climate changes like those seen this year, Soto said.

“These native seeds have adapted to different geographies, at high and low altitudes, in places where there is a lot of rain or none, or where they need to be resistant to insects,” he said.

“(Hybrid) seeds have been bred for another purpose. They do not have the genetic diversity necessary to cope with climate change.”

If more weather events, such as the floods that shook producers, wipe out an entire crop, Soto said the bank will make seeds available to local producers to recover their crops, this time with a more resistant variant that their ancestors have been growing for centuries.

Meanwhile, farmers are rushing to recover in the short term, saying the losses also pose a threat to the farming tradition their families have struggled to maintain on the outskirts of the dense city of 23 million people.

Carlos Jiménez, 61, has long worked in the fields of Xochimilco, but began growing the shorter marigold plants eight years ago when he noticed that the hybrid was more marketable. As he has lost more crops and gotten lower prices for plants due to mold building up on their roots, he said he has begun to consider ways to adapt, such as building greenhouses.

“The plants get sick, they rot, and our business dies,” Jiménez said. “And with it our tradition goes because it is our economy.”

Producers like Ortíz have considered the same thing. But their losses mean they don’t have the money to build additional infrastructure. His family and other farmers have asked local authorities for help, but say they have received only pennies on the dollar of what they need to recover. Although the local government has said it continues to work to help offset the hit farmers felt.

She said she has started looking for other crops she can grow that are hardier than the wrinkled orange flowers.

Others like Jimenez said that while the plants’ roots may rot around it, for now it remains strong.

“This plant has a deeper meaning for our lost loved ones,” he said. “These are traditions we passed down from our ancestors. They can’t just disappear.”