I assumed seasonal flowers meant a handful of predictable swaps four times a year. Paying attention week to week showed me something far more layered, and a little humbling, about how much I had been missing.
A handful of flowers have become small yearly markers for me, the kind I start watching for weeks before they actually show up. Waiting for them has taught me more patience than I expected.
My reasons for choosing flowers change almost without me noticing as the year turns. Looking back at how differently I shop in each season showed me habits I never realized I had built for myself.
There is a stretch every year when the flower stand looks thin and undecided, caught between what just finished and what has not arrived yet. I used to think something was wrong. Now I know it is just the gap.
Certain summer blooms appear at the stand for what feels like a matter of days before they disappear again until next year. I used to miss them entirely. Now I plan around their short windows on purpose.
I used to think spring flowers meant tulips and not much else. Paying closer attention to the buckets at the stand changed how I understood the season, and taught me a lesson about timing I now try not to repeat.