The week the farm turned white 🤍
![]() There is a point in every crop where you stop looking at plants and suddenly start seeing flowers. That happened with the white ranunculus this week...  For months, they’ve been rows of green. I’ve watered them, fed them, worried about them, checked them after frosts and walked past them probably hundreds of times wondering when they were finally going to do something...  And then, almost overnight, the patch turned white. Beautiful, layered Italian ranunculus have started opening across the bed, the bees have found them, and the early morning light coming across the farm this morning made the whole crop look ridiculously beautiful. I took some photosof the bees working amongst them as the sun came up. They’re probably some of my favourite photos I’ve taken at Fairview so far.  There’s also a little bit more riding on the flowers this week. On Saturday, we will supply flowers for our first wedding. When I started growing flowers, that felt like one of those things that belonged much further down the track. Something we might do one day, when the farm was bigger, when I knew more, when everything felt a little more established. Instead, here we are!!  Buckets of ranunculus are sitting in the cool room, I’m checking them far more often than is probably necessary, and flowers grown in our paddock at Loch Lomond are about to end up on someone’s wedding tables....What?!  That feels significant.  It has also reminded me of one of the hardest things about growing flowers commercially: you can plan almost everything, but you are never completely in charge. You can choose the varieties. You can prepare the beds. You can plant hundreds of plants. You can irrigate, fertilise, weed and protect them. But ultimately, the flowers decide when they are ready. And running a seasonal flower farm means learning to build a business around that.  The pink and yellow ranunculus that filled the stall over the past few weeks are completely finished now. The white are taking their place. Soon the stock will finish too, and another crop will move in behind it.  Meanwhile, the dahlia beds are being prepared, hundreds of dahlia plugs are on their way, zinnias are coming, and I’m already ordering ranunculus for next autumn 2027. Flower farming has a strange way of making you live in several seasons at once. You’re harvesting one, planting another and planning for one that won’t exist for six months. I think that might be one of the things I love most about it.   At the farm stall this weekend... I’ll still be cutting for the stall around our wedding order, using the best of what is flowering in the field. Expect plenty of our white Italian ranunculus and fragrant stock, with bunches made in small numbers as I harvest.  As always, once they’re gone, they’re gone.  📍 Fairview Flowers - OPEN SATURDAY & SUNDAY 7am -1pmTom Grayson Road, Loch LomondOn the Warwick–Killarney Road  Thank you to everyone who has stopped at the stall, ordered flowers, told a friend about us, subscribed here or simply followed along while I work out how to build a flower farm. I have opened pre-orders this week, if you'd like to order a market bunch please click the link below, these will be in the stall, with your name on them on Saturday morning for pick up. (Friday afternoon if pre-arranged).  Fairview is still very much a work in progress.  But this week, standing amongst a bed full of white ranunculus with bees buzzing around me, it felt a little more like the farm I pictured when I started.  As always, thank you for being here! It means the world. Thomasin x |
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