People sometimes assume that growing flowers is just about colour and beauty — something decorative or light. But for me, it’s always been something deeper.
When I’m out in the field with my hands in the soil, I feel grounded in a way that’s hard to explain. There’s a quiet rhythm to it: planting seeds, pulling weeds, watching something small become something generous. It slows me down and brings me back to myself.
It’s also where I feel closest to God. Not in a grand or loud way — but in the details. The way a stem curves toward the light. The shimmer on a bee’s back. The hush that falls over the garden at dusk. These little moments of grace remind me that I’m part of something much bigger.
Growing flowers, for me, is a way of caring for the land. I want this farm to be a place that gives back — to the soil, to the pollinators, to the wider ecology of this little corner of Ontario. That’s why I grow without chemicals, let wild things flourish around the edges, and leave room for butterflies, bees, and birds to thrive.
I love creating dried bouquets and wedding florals, but at the heart of it, I’m not just farming for beauty. I’m farming for connection — to the earth, to the seasons, to something sacred. And I hope that comes through in everything I grow.