The Magic of the Seasons
Because you are here, it’s pretty likely that you too love flowers. The ones that feel as if they might have grown within the vase, with stems that have bends and wiggles. Flowers that are characterful, sometimes sweet and tender, or maybe wild and dramatic. The flowers that speak to our hearts, and remind us of the utter beauty that nature has given us.
Just three years ago during our first lockdown here in New Zealand, I sat with feelings that had often murmured quietly and sometimes shook me loudly. Feelings of longing to listen more fully to the part of me that lives for beauty, and the way it nurtures my heart. I had time to imagine living more aligned with nature, seasons, and the earth. Flowers and studying floristry became the change I longed for. You can read more about how this came about in this blog post The Beginning if you are curious. It felt more right than any change I had ever made before.
I stepped into my first class at floristry school, full of hope and dreams. The dreams of a middle-aged woman perhaps, but still as alive as they had been for decades. I’d never stopped feeling a longing to live working with my creativity and eye.
It felt like somehow the universe had conspired to bring me here, and that this could not be more perfect. I was ready to bring my lifetime love of garden flowers, beauty, and nature and what I secretly hoped was a “good eye” to the classroom. The flowers we were learning and practicing with were abundant, extremely colourful and cheerful. Perhaps a little too loud for my taste I quietly thought, but oh still they were flowers I told myself.
“I was longing to listen more fully to the part of me that lives for beauty, and the way it nurtures my heart.”
Their stems were poker straight, and every flower in a bunch was uniform and neat. Roses were tight buds that took a week to open enough to look even remotely like the ones I love in my garden. Gerberas were the brightest orange and yellow, huge dinner plate horrors I quietly thought to myself. My heart sank as I felt honestly quite sickened by how far removed from the natural beauty of flowers I knew in my garden these were.
Many of the classroom ones had that sad dull, slightly curling round the edges look that told me they had been picked many days ago. I guess they had to be to find their way through the flower markets, whether from New Zealand or flown in from afar. I learned that to come this far and live this long they often were sprayed with chemicals to kill any bugs and preserve them. Perhaps I had been a little naive before, but it honestly had not occurred to me that flowers might be sprayed and rack up more air miles than I ever had!
I absolutely loved my time studying floristry, however in significant ways, much of it did not sit well with me. The style of floristry we were taught was very formal and to my eye felt like it dated back to decades ago. I tried to conform as much as I needed to, passing my assessments was important to me, and to do this a certain amount of “towing the line” was needed. However, and this is a big one for me….nature, sustainability and my aesthetic of beauty are also hugely important to me. If I couldn’t put myself and my creativity into my flowers, then I would have to question if this was the right path for me.
“These were flowers that spoke to me of nature, movement, character and the time of the year.”
Gradually over the year of study (and since), I began to develop my own style, which was far closer to the garden-gathered flowers I had always had in my home, than that of a rigid formal arrangement. I realised that my love of seasonality, gardens, and my wish for sustainability was asking me to approach flowers in my own way. I started visiting local growers, these were flowers that spoke to me of nature, movement, character, and the time of the year. That they were fresher, local, and had been grown seasonally added to their beauty and value in my eyes.
I began foraging in Christchurch’s Red Zone, where there are hundreds of acres of what remains of gardens from prior to our earthquakes a decade ago. It is entirely legal to pick just a few stems (I have checked carefully) and it really is a hidden treasure trove. I am sure there is nowhere else in the world quite like it. I will share more about this in a future blog post if this intrigues you. This video is the magic of sunrise while I forage there, with the birds singing their morning calls.
I have found that there is a feeling of being connected to the earth and myself that comes through working seasonally. Tuning in to nature's cycles and patterns, feeling the changes every week, noticing birds and wildlife, and that it is all constantly growing, budding, ripening and then dying. The benefits of this way of creating far outweigh that of using flowers that are grown far away, and forced outside their natural season. It is a whole way of life and one that is deeply nourishing.
I have learned that no flower is to be taken for granted, all have their season and moment. Each is treasured for the time it is here, and then something else takes its place. The extra time that it takes to work in this way, sourcing from local growers, foraging, and growing what I can add from my garden is what makes these flowers pull at my heart. I am working in a way that honours nature and the wider environment. I love what every season brings because it changes so constantly. My creativity is stretched and inspired always. That is one of the best parts of this, there is no formula or recipe to my flowers, I adapt what I create to what is available and seasonal. I like to think that I do have a recognisable style, but that no two arrangements are ever quite the same.
The flowers of this way are soulful, alive, and grounded. Elegant, wild, characterful. Gathered and loved. They respect nature and the earth. They are a love note to nature and beauty.
Katherine X