Petals with Purpose

The venue was a waterfront wedding on our island. I was a budding farmer-florist—anxious, excited, and completely smitten with my green thumbs as our first season in business bloomed. 

I was unloading crate loads of delicate floral arrangements from our little pick-up truck when a most striking woman approached me. She was mirroring my anxious enthusiasm, but for very different reasons—she wanted to see her bridal bouquet right away. I felt my stomach drop into a space I didn’t know existed, suddenly beset by the idea that I might have underestimated the formality and elegance of the occasion. Were my flowers good enough for this majestic creature, a stranger that until that moment I’d only corresponded with via email. How was I even remotely qualified to design a simple boutonniere, I thought, let alone a hand-tied bridal bouquet, relying on the eclectic mix of flowers growing amidst our relentless sea of weeds. 

I took the bouquet and made a shaky, clumsy transfer into her perfectly manicured hands while my imposter-syndrome mind raced for a game plan to salvage this first business encounter. I noticed she didn’t smile when she lowered her head into my creation. I heard her inhale deeply.  

It took what seemed an eternity before she returned her gaze to me. I was mentally rehearsing how quickly I could buy up all the flower bunches I could find and fashion something more formal in time for the ceremony.

I pictured myself frantically tearing open a dozen cellophane-wrapped bouquets, rearranging stems, tying them off with a fresh ribbon. Desperately trying to make things right for this breathtaking princess. I felt my knees buckle when tears began to well up in her eyes, and I could feel the words “I’m so sorry” on the tip of my tongue as she looked at me and said: “I miss her so much. It’s perfect.” 

I owe it all to the sweet peas, whose interspersed inclusion had transported the bride-to-be to her recently deceased mother’s garden, where tangled masses of the colourful blooms had once flourished. The absence of her mother, weighing heavily on her wedding day, had been noticeably lightened by the intimate and intoxicating fragrance. With that, friends arrived and whisked her away to deal with other preparations for the big day, leaving me to lay out the reception centrepieces while contemplating the powerful feelings that “real” flowers can impart to the human spirit. 

The slightly wild, romantic arrangements assembled with our farm's cut flowers were well received that first wedding season, despite the insecurities that plagued me before, during, and after every delivery. Since then, our distinct bouquets and heritage varieties have forged countless connections at every kind of occasion. Our weed patch has supplied islanders with blooms to welcome a new life, celebrate a special event, bid a loved one farewell, or simply ornament a bustling kitchen table. You’ll never see our eclectic collection of annuals and perennials in a grocery store bouquet. They are the signature of our family farm. Petals with a purpose. Touchstones for creative souls. 

Even though nobody is eating our floral arrangements, cut flowers are no exception to the buy local, in-season-is-best rule. As with slow food, a slow flower (or field-to-vase) movement has been germinating across North America. My hope is that it will grow to predominate in Salish Sea island economies. More and more flower lovers, conscious consumers, and specialty florists are demanding to know how, where, and by whom their flowers are produced. For very good reasons. 

Since the advent of cross-continental airline travel in the 1960s, the floral industry has quite literally abandoned its roots and taken to the skies. The vast majority of cut flowers purchased on Vancouver Island are grown in equatorial countries with abundant sun, cheap farm labour, and lax regulations. These are then shipped in refrigerated trucks to every corner of the globe. Many of us feel it is irresponsible to continue to support the highly industrial and chemically dependent production and distribution of cut flowers. 

The lifecycle of a conventional cut flower devours so many valuable resources: water, jet fuel, synthetic fertilizers and pesticides, and copious quantities of plastic packaging. Meanwhile, the nostalgic scents of our favourite blooms have been engineered out of the gene pool and replaced with stronger, longer, and sturdier stems to survive the long journeys. The average supermarket bouquet has travelled more than 2,300km before it lands in your vase at home. How come cut flowers—the universal symbol of delicate, natural beauty—have evolved into something so contrived and unnatural, teetering on the very edge of lifelessness? There are so many alternatives.

Sowing Seeds for Better Bouquets

This growing season, go in search of a better bouquet with a few simple tips from your friendly neighbourhood island flower farmers.

1. Green thumbs up: If you are a home gardener, consider dedicating even just a wee 8'x10' patch of sunny soil to grow cut flowers from April to October. High intensity flower production on a small footprint is possible (and can be profitable) if you have ample sun (minimum 6hrs uninterrupted), rich soil, clean water, and a bit of gardening know-how. 

2. If you are a flower fan with no garden to call your own: Treat yourself to a weekly, monthly, or seasonal bouquet from your gardening friend, local flower farmer, or specialty florist. Skip the cellophane wrapped stems flown in from South America and commit to a regular parade of fresh, lush, local blooms! 

3. If you frequent a favourite florist/flower shop: Ask your grocery store or florist retailer to source local bouquets year-round, as well as label the origin of all cut flower varieties so you can make an informed choice. It's time to place the highest value on local, seasonal, and sustainably grown florals. 

4. If you MUST buy roses in February: Choose certified organic when shopping out of season. Roses in February don't say “I love you” as much as they say a multi-million-dollar global marketing effort has paid off. Organic certification ensures basic health and environmental standards are being met to grow that long-stemmed rose for your loved one. 

5. If you’re hosting a special event: Commemorate it by showcasing in-season and local blooms, and let your guests know you support slow flowers. 

6. If you have a farmer-florist in your community: Chat with them and ask if they grow your favourite cut flower, or if they would be willing to. Then commit to purchasing a few bunches when they are at their peak beauty. 

7. If you’re giving the gift of flowers: Consider a gift certificate for a Community Supported Agriculture (CSA) flower subscription or cut flower seed packets from a local farmer-florist.

8. If you favour elaborately arranged creations: Avoid purchasing flowers mounted in floral foam. There is nothing natural or beautiful about a block of formaldehyde-soaked foam leaching into the landfill after your bouquet is done. A progressive specialty florist can create amazing and artistic arrangements without using toxic foam, glue, colour spray, or artificial fragrances. 

9. If your community has a local farmers’ market or agricultural co-operative: Ask them to expand their “buy local” promotions to include the word Flowers. A focus on food is important, but don’t forget local flowers are food for the soul.

10. If you want to propagate floral-induced smiles: Buy or arrange your own bunch of local flowers, balance them on your head (or the head of someone you love), take a picture, share it, and pledge to buy local blooms this season.