When you grow up in a garden paradise, you easily grow to love flowers. Minnesota summers are short and full of humid heat and vibrant greens. My childhood home was a fenced off sanctuary abundant with plants that bloomed throughout the season. Starting with the irises and tulips of spring, progressing to the purple coneflowers and columbines of summer, and closing with apples and grapes in the fall. Most kids just had a few shrubs in their yard, but when your father is a plant geneticist you get the full gamut.
Our car rides as children consisted of games such as “guess the weed in the ditch” and “name that deciduous tree”. As I grew older, I joined my brother and sister in the sunflower field that vividly remains in my memories. I assisted in weeding, pollinating, and everything in between and learned way too much about sunflowers. For years they were my favorite flower, and they will always hold a special place in my heart.
Now that I am an adult with children of my own, I appreciate the beauty of nature even more. Things I never noticed before capture my attention, especially the ever-changing rotation of wildflowers on walks with my kids. My son constantly points out “flowers” on our walks – little weeds that tend to be trampled on rather than appreciated. I see him dance with excitement when he gets to water plants with his dad. It seems the important and everyday moments in our lives are usually accompanied by these blooms.
I started pressing flowers as a project for my mother. I was just a little girl at the time. When I found out my parents were moving away from my childhood home many years later, I was determined to save as many flowers from that blissful garden of my youth as I could. I have been blessed to be able to save flowers from so many memorable occasions, and I wish to teach everyone this skill so no bloom and memory is forgotten.
