A New Flower Patch

I knew it was the right place to start when a Robin landed on the tree where I was working. Welly boots on, it felt so peaceful to be outside alongside the chickens, who after a long month of rain were happy to be out scratching in the mud looking for grubs. While stopping still for a sip of coffee, I watched my new friend land on an old Damson tree branch. The Damsons come back every year with a fluffy white blossom in Spring. But the trees take up more space and are increasingly skeletal as the years go by. Meaty brambles have taken over, and it’s only around August when they blossom does the area look wildly pretty.

It’s time for change, and whilst I love buying flowers from local farms and wholesalers, I really enjoy choosing the best flowers I can find for each job, but how wonderful would it be combine stems grown by my own hands to my work. My flower recipes for each job are unique anyway, but this would take things to the next level. So, I have set a grand intention to grow more of my own flowers this year.

If I’m honest, life gets busy and I have been putting this off, citing a lack of space, or there always being a closer crocodile to the canoe. But this year I have asked for help from a friend who has access to a large-scale greenhouse to get the seedlings going with me. There can be no excuse, these little plants will need somewhere to grow in a few months’ time.  

When I first moved to Hampshire, the first thing I grew in our cottage garden were Sweet peas. I always attribute this to re-discovering a love of flowers that I had perhaps put aside after years of living and working in London. I have been nurturing one line of beds for years, in these we have grown plenty of Runner Beans, Sweet peas, Scabiosa and Sunflowers, but to upscale, I need bigger patches I can access away from the wall.

Just behind where our chickens live, the soil is deep brown just like the flower farms I often buy from. There are also tonnes of worms, working their magic unseen. The ground is susceptible to an army of Stinging nettles which although so ouchy to clear are another sign that the soil is good.

I’m not the first person to begin a more intentional flower growing journey by clearing a patch of brambles, nor indeed will I be the last. But I do genuinely hope by the Summer, I’ll see Sweet Pea’s working their way up birch pole structures and an explosion of Cosmos. Whether there will be enough flowers to use in my work is story for another day, but there will certainly be plenty to put in a jug on our kitchen table. Wish me luck!

Love Sarah x