Early last week, I bought four stems of peonies (two pink and two white) from an eight-year-old grower and entrepreneur who lives near me.
I saw the peony bushes blooming in her family’s yard one morning when I was on a run and detoured past their house on Jasper Street. These peonies brought me to a full stop. I imagined the bliss of watching their blossoms and buds open and photographing them. So, I knocked on the door to ask if I could buy a few, but there was no answer. Not wanting to give up, I took a note to the house a little later and slipped it into the front door screen.
That evening, the girl’s father sent me a text: “My daughter (an eight-year-old who owns the peonies) said she’d sell you four for $1. You’re welcome to come by and clip your four. Just leave a dollar in the flower box on the porch. : )”
The next morning, with a thank-you note and cash in one hand and floral snips in the other, I headed back to Jasper. While making the hard decision on which four to choose, the girl peony grower walked out the door. Wearing a big blue backpack and hoodie, she, her father and brother were headed to the school bus stop. I handed her the envelope and thanked her for growing such beautiful flowers.
“Thank you for the business,” she said and smiled.
“No, thank you,” I answered. “Your peonies are amazing.” (Her father hadn’t shared her name in his text, so I didn’t ask.)
During the past several days, I’ve been photographing the peonies outside under the tall, leafy trees in my backyard. The buds are still opening. The largest bloom, too big to put my hands around when I cut it, is now fading. Its wrinkled, shrinking petals are falling and making a petal puddle around the vase. I’ve picked up the petals and held them in my palm to smell their clove-tea rose perfume.
I’m particularly grateful for these peonies—and their grower. She clearly nurtured them with love. I believe this is the reason for their extraordinary, ethereal beauty. These peonies are also temporal, so I’m grateful for the opportunity to photograph them. I can see this beauty again, even when they aren’t here anymore.
