I want to give you a quick window into the floral world since we haven’t been able to make bouquets for you lately.
Most of the weddings that got postponed over the last 18 months are finally happening now. And the florists & vendors, who revised and re-planned all those weddings, are now triple-booked to fit everyone in.
That would have been fine since most of those were small, intimate weddings (eg. one bouquet & boutonnière)…
BUT with things opening up, most of those weddings have expanded to “five bouquets, ten centerpieces and a floral arch,” or something like that.
Multiply that for triple-booked weddings across the globe… and all our florists are absolutely swamped with crazy workloads AND flower shortages/cancellations. They’re telling me about long lines and empty coolers at the wholesalers.
So, that’s where all our flowers are going right now, to help fill the gap for all these couples who are *finally* able to have the wedding they’ve looked forward to for so long.
The wrinkles will smooth out eventually but for right now, that’s what we’re focusing on. Our team has worked SO hard this season and we’ve been able to fill every single order, which is an amazing feeling, but I really feel for all the vendors trying to make it happen with limited resources. Whew.
We have lots of dreams & plans in the works, but for now, this our reality and I’m really glad you’re here, whether or not we have fresh flowers for you! This really is the ‘long game’ and I look forward to what’s ahead once we emerge from these crazy days.
Thanks @jeffkaterbergfilms for this beautiful drone footage!
How’re you doing over there? 💕 Right around now, flower farmers everywhere are feeling the “whew” of a long season, which is such a parallel to life these days.
It would be so much easier if we had an end date. It’s hard to run a marathon when you have no idea where the finish line is.
(Bad analogy for me—I am most definitely not a runner!)
Our field does have an end date: Frost. Last year it came in the middle of September, but other years it holds off until late October. Either would be fine, but it would be really nice to know in advance!
Of course, we can’t know. And so we continue getting out of bed each morning, looking upward,
celebrating milestones in whatever ways we can, and trusting we’re on the path to finishing strong—whenever that may be.
‘Scabiosa stellata’ seed pods pictured here, holding each other up. 🌟
I’ve become a morning person by necessity, which has made me wonder: are we meant for this, to be drawn outside by the rhythms of the sunrise?
In the winter, I sleep as late as I possibly can—and that feels right, too. ;)
There is a sense of urgency that propels me out of bed in the mornings these days.
partly because we have so much to harvest before 10am!…
and partly because the season is so short,
and partly because NOW is the time for change and regeneration and action, and it starts with loving this beautiful world.
And how can we love this beautiful world without kneeling in the soil, witnessing the dewdrops glitter in chorus at the moment the sun breaks, finding a sleeping honeybee heavy with pollen?
It is the difference between ‘scenery’ and that favourite spot you had as a kid, under a tree or in a meadow, where you pulled apart a leaf and marveled at how you could see the individual cells, peeling them back between the veins.
I am seeing actual change in our field from year to year as the ecosystem begins to balance. Sure, we have bugs and weeds—but we also have beneficial predators and birds, all thriving in our pesticide-free field.
And THE FLOWERS. They have never been more beautiful.
I am beginning to believe that the best way to encourage climate health is to let everyone plant flowers and veggies, and let us fail & experiment and learn SO much along the way.
And give us a reason to get outside for the sunrise.
*giant poppy pods pictured here
It’s twilight for the daffodils. Here on the farm, something is always ending while another is beginning.
I tend to live in the future, but there’s only one way to witness the miracle of a single flower:
Fully present, in this beautiful moment that will never be repeated.
