Flowers and the Farm

A few weeks ago Jessica, another farm volunteer, pointed out that all the flower pickers that morning were men, all men with very long hair twisted up off their necks in the heat. They were gathering long stems of deep purple and white larkspur for the CSA members. There was a lot of discussion among them about what constituted an acceptable stem and gentle shaking to be sure the loose petals fell in the field. It seemed like a peace and beauty class going on in the field.
Sitting here today at the Farmer & the Cook I notice the little bouquets of zinnias from the farm gracing every table. I helped to harvest them on Thursday and at first I was a little judgmental, I have to admit. After all, the zinnias are tiny and modest compared with the stately larkspur and regal sunflowers of weeks past. At first four little blooms in a yellow organic twist tie seems a little, well, little. The thought passed however as I cut the stems and stripped the leaves being careful to cut above the next buds which will flower by next week. Suddenly I became aware of the voices of the flowers calling "pick me! pick me!"  A sense of absolute joy and a rush of emotion at a level just below consciousness flooded me. What? I've always been a little bit reluctant to cut flowers and take them indoors, feeling it's unfair to them. "No! This is our purpose, our reason, our vocation, if you will," they assured me.
Bridget, John and I were harvesting and I began to notice the ballet between John and me. I snipped the stem and handed the bunch to him; he stripped the lower leaves and gently tied them below the bloom and near the end of the stem. When Brian, Bridget's boyfriend joined us, lured by the zinnias' subtle mojo I'd like to think, we were two couples engaged in a flower exchange performance that felt so sweet and loving. The flowers laughed at me and seemed thrilled that I figured out their game to enhance our life. Was it an accident that of all the volunteers two couples were picking the flowers together?
All week the zinnias have graced my kitchen table. The four stems fit easily into a skinny caper jar. They exude a kind of happiness that is infectious and I have to thank them for all the lessons of how to give freely, enthusiastically, fully and now. The flowers are a huge gift to the whole enterprise of the farm,  they have deepened my appreciation of every aspect of the work and remind me that the sustenance of the soul is as important as feeding the body.