First Lisianthus Bloom
The first lisianthus bloom opened this week.
I expected excitement and there was plenty of that. But also gratitude.
Last year, I failed at growing these. Knowing what I know now, this isn’t surprising. I tossed 25 seeds in with the rest of the flowers I was growing and by some miracle, 2 sprouted. That was it. They never turned into anything more than a small, squat pile of leaves (known as rosetting).
This year, I invested in a grow tent. Started the seeds in the dead of winter. Read everything I could get my hands on. Questioned every yellow leaf. Learned when to step in and when to step back and just simply observe.
I didn’t choose lisianthus because they were easy.
I chose them for the challenge and because something about them felt familiar.
At their core, they’re wild prairie flowers with deep roots. Challenging from seed and painfully slow growing but once established, incredibly resilient.
They felt like the perfect metaphor for the life we’ve built and continue to build.
For a while now, I wasn’t sure I belonged here. We moved across the country to a small town where we knew only one person. Even after all the work it took to get here, there was still a little voice in the back of my head telling me I hadn’t earned this.
Standing in the field this week, with Bill bush hogging in the back field and the first bloom finally open… I realized this project of mine was never just about the flowers.
I’ve grown a lot of flowers over the years. This one feels different.
The lisianthus arrived the same way we did. Through a little faith and showing up on the easy days, the hard days and all the days in between.
For the first time, this farm feels real.
Till next time,
- C