Lost Gardens

I try to research and locate flower farms near our home, but often, flowers are grown in very unofficial ways that do not involve websites and advertising. As we drove through King George County on our way to visit George Washington’s birthplace, Wakefield at Pope’s Creek, I spied this sign for a flower farm on Route 3. Things looked promising. The American flag danced in the summer breeze, and a sign across the highway read “open,” so we pulled in. But as we roamed the property, it was clear, the farm had closed up. The grounds were still mowed and there were flowers lingering—rose and hydrangea bushes, gladiolus, and a large fig tree with so many bees attending the fruit that the tree literally hummed. But there were no flowers to pick, no person to pay. Things change and businesses come and go, but there are always remnants of sweeter days before the farm was lost.

From Below

“Part of what gives a flower such charge is that, even as we plunge our face into its blowsy petals, 
and enjoy its heady scent, we know that tomorrow it may have turned.”
—Lucy Davies, New Photography of the Flower.

The anemones are from my own flower garden, the patch that runs alongside the sidewalk to our home. The zinnias are from the flower farm at Garner’s Produce in Warsaw, Virginia. Both photos were taken on this hot and sunny August day. Both photos also required that I lie on my back and shoot pictures from ground level, up into the sky. The zinnias were taken mid-morning when the skies were blue with puffy clouds, and I had to aim at an angle because I only had my 85mm lens with me. I also had to lie down in the garden dirt. The anemone photo was taken in early evening as the sun faded—no clouds, just the rim of the oak trees in our yard. Because I had a comfy quilt to lie upon, I was able to aim pretty much directly overhead into the sky.

My hip hurts a bit from all the getting down and back up again, over and over. I’ve used my foam roller to reset my body and scheduled a day of rest for tomorrow. Still, I feel good for the effort and happy with the pictures made from below, looking up to the underside of the flowers.

When Things Are Messy

Hibiscus, The Flower Shack, Providence Forge, Virginia

It’s worth mentioning that my photographs are mostly about color and geometry and our emotional response to both of those things.

This is especially true when it comes to the floral portraits I’ve been working on lately. But behind all of that careful composition, gardens are actually quite messy.

This is the in-between time. Before the next succession of flowers that will come with early fall. I am eagerly anticipating heirloom chrysanthemums and more dahlias.

In the meantime, I am embracing the messiness of gardens as part of the process, and feeling immensely grateful that the anxious girl who could not tolerate such disarray has grown into the woman who loves it all.

Flower Farms

When I first began this project, my intended goal was to photograph the flowers I received in my weekly flower subscription during the spring season. But the work did not feel complete after only one season, so I kept going. Along the way, it felt right to visit the farms where the flowers were grown and pick my own. This turned out to be a great decision that has kept us on adventures all summer long. Many people say that communication is the secret to a good marriage, but I’m not so sure. I think it’s that feeling of connection that keeps us in harmony. Pulling over to buy flowers from a roadside stand. Eating a packed lunch in the car. Me reading aloud to him. Embracing the life we have. Best date ever.

Sparrowhurst Flower Farm, Charles City, Virginia, Summer 2026