We just love flowers. My favorite quote is about flowers. My favorite dress is a floral print. My favorite gift? You guessed it, flowers! I cannot imagine a world without the beauty of flowers.
Whether the flowers are passionate and magical, like the rose or strange and marvelous, like the bleeding heart.
Or even as plain and sweet as daisies woven into a chain that will grace Flora’s hair.
As a teenager, I do love sleep. Yes, I stay up late and wake up later than I should. But, this morning, I got up on time. I came downstairs, said my good mornings and in a sleep induced fog, followed my heart to the studio. Upon stepping inside, my breath was taken away by this:
And boy was I awake! I mean what’s more awakening than a bucket full of zinnias?! Perhaps a good cup of coffee or someone yelling “FIRE,” but I prefer zinnias. I began to make the CSA bouquets. I grabbed flowers, some sunflowers over here, one or two zinnias there. Maybe some snow-on-the-mountain? Yes, that just about does it. All of the sudden I am in love. I’m in love with the yellow of the sunflowers, the way the dahlias demand you to gaze at them, t
he way the whole bouquet comes together in a sunny swirl of charm and exquisiteness.
The sunflowers are tall and powerful, but they are simple and kind. Humbling in their graceful beauty, their willingness to not only grace our table with their elegance but my stomach, in the fall, when their seeds become the tastiest of snacks.
I love these flowers. I love their personalities. The way they make any place look ten times more beautiful.
My mom said that her favorite thing about flowers is that they make her smile. They make me smile too.
My mom taught me to love flowers, just as my Nana taught her. Already Flora wants to pick flowers and learn their names. She says that her favorite thing about flowers is that they a
During this wonderfully sunny and hot summer, I've heard my friends complaining. They want cold.
But, I want to hold on to the flowers a little bit longer.
I dream of flowers in the winter when the world is white and cold, the smell of them
and their soft petals.
I don't want them to ever leave. Yet, I suppose that the things that are most special to us are things that are ephemeral.
Next time you come out to the farm feel free to walk through the flowers.
some sweet nectar.
Marvel at the beauty of the flowers, their show will be over soon enough.
Because, in my opinion, "happiness is to hold flowers in both hands"
(a Japanese Proverb).
Blessings on the blooms,