08/22/2026
Flower farming is kind of crazy.
You start the year in March, standing in what basically looks like an empty field, trying to picture what you want it to look like months from now.
You plan where everything is going to go, figure out what you want to grow, order seeds, work the ground…and wait.
Then May comes, and you start planting.
And from that point on, it feels like you’re constantly trying to keep something alive.
You plant.
You water.
You w**d.
You watch the weather.
Then June and July show up with the heat, and you spend a whole lot of time wondering if any of this is actually going to work.
And then, almost all at once…it does.
For a few weeks, the whole field comes alive.
The sunflowers bloom.
The zinnias and cosmos fill in.
The bees are everywhere.
The birds start showing up.
People come out and pick flowers. They take pictures. They make bouquets. They walk around the field and smile.
And for those few weeks, you look around and think…
Yep. That was worth it.
But flowers don’t last forever.
Eventually the blooms start to fade.
The bees get what they need.
The birds get their share of the seeds.
We harvest what we can.
And then one day, you climb on the tractor…
…and in a few hours, something you spent months growing is gone.
The sunflowers are brush hogged.
The flowers disappear.
And before you know it, that field is just a flat, grassy piece of ground again.
It’s a strange feeling.
You’re tired.
You’re a little sad to see it go.
You’re proud of what you grew.
And hopefully, somewhere along the way, you made a few people happy.
Then you look at that empty field…
…and start thinking about what you’re going to plant there next year.
That’s flower farming.
