A Flower Farmer’s Journal: Lush Summer Blooms.
Journal snippets from an anthophilous flower farmer, living a flower-inspired life in Napa, California.
Anthophilous: adjective, attracted by or living among flowers (merriam-webster)
Saturday, June 17, 2023
I’ve returned from my trip. I didn’t have the energy to check on the flowers when I returned last night and when I’m drained, I know better. Do.Not.Enter. Too many things, too little energy, not enough willpower to say no. But now it’s morning and with my favorite Naysayer coffee in hand, I eagerly head out to see what everyone has been up to while I’ve been away. My eyes go immediately to a new spot of white flying tall above the rest and I catch my breath. The larkspur, finally! Planted by seed in November, it’s been a long time patiently awaiting. My first time to grow them, they tower at 5 feet tall and gently sway in the wind with delicate grace. I’m enchanted by the fluffy puffs of white and immediately think of marshmallow cream from a jar.
Sunday, July 18
Creative Sunday. Father’s Day. We must combine the two. I pick extra Bells of Ireland for my husband, his favorite. When we moved to California, I frequented a European style flower shop in Sausalito that stocked buckets full of flowers out front. I always felt like I was back in NYC when I would shop there, and it was the first time we ever saw Bells of Ireland. I’d pile them en masse in a vase, my first minimalism arrangements out of necessity, as I couldn’t afford any other flowers at the time. My husband would unfailingly comment how much he liked them, every single time I treated us to them. Boys love flowers too apparently. They have a fresh, clean, sharp scent in the fields; herbal, but subtle. I inhale them fully while I harvest Koko Loko roses, Cherry Bronze Snapdragons and Castlewellan Sweet Peas. A muted, neutral palate of rose, taupe and salmon. They’ll go perfectly with his favorite cake.
Monday, June 22, 2023
I find a forgotten peony bloom. Unfathomable, I know. But it had bent over fully, leaning into the weedy grass around it, and somehow I missed it. I exclaim my apologies to it as I gently scoop it up, snip it off and take it inside. She’s stunning with petals of pink already beginning to unfurl. I like to think she’s forgiven me, as she opens larger and larger.
Wednesday, June 21, 2023
I spy a rainbow of color splashes in the strawflower row and I’m like a little kid again as I rush over. I love these papery, crinkly, cheerful little things. Year 2 to grow them, I doubled my plantings in hopes to build up a much larger dried inventory. I rub my thumb softly over each one, their papery petals crinkling loudly and springing right back into place. It’s like a sea of brightly colored Easter eggs bobbing on tall green grass. Orange, Salmon, Yellow, White, Red, Pink. Now to remember how/when to harvest them.
Thursday, June 22, 2023
It’s the evening walk of the fields. I closely watch the dahlia leaves, monitoring for disease, eyeing their buds, and failing completely at estimating their potential readiness. The Smokey Grey Larkspur is now blooming too and so very elegant with her muted tones of smokey lavender grey. I find the first zinnia bloom, from either Dawn Creek Farm or Blomma Flower Farm, I’m not sure. My tags got mixed up and it’s anyone’s guess now. I think perhaps they will cross to make something unbelievable and so I let them be. Under the persimmon tree (who is questioningly dropping many of its fruit caps), I spy a splash of purple. The allium sphaerocephalon is finally coloring up. Say that one three times fast.
Friday, June 23, 2023
My flowers have been made into art. I receive a text from my friend Rosie, an oil painter, and she’s painted my recent photograph holding Kiiro cosmos. I’m beyond delighted. I have zero drawing talents, so this is even that more amazing to me. I’m still in awe that people exist who can create art that actually looks like the real thing!! My flowers captured forever onto a canvas. And gorgeously at that. She half jokes we should open a shop together. But I think she’s on to something.
Thanks for being here Flower Thief Friends. Wishing you a beautiful, creative, flower-filled week. xo, Elizabeth