Between Seasons: May’s Quiet Beauty on the Flower Farm

Early evening May views at the flower farm

Between Seasons: The Floral Twixmas of May

There’s a moment each year when the field holds its breath.

Spring hasn’t quite said goodbye, and summer hasn’t yet fully arrived. It’s a pause—a liminal space where one season slips softly into the next. Like the hush of Twixmas between Christmas and New Year, this time in May is quiet, tentative, and full of almosts. The bulbs have danced their dance, and now the next wave of flowers—summer’s bold and abundant chorus—is just beginning to clear its throat.

It’s what vegetable growers call the hungry gap. And for flower farmers, we feel it too.

The End of a Glorious Spring

The narcissi were spectacular this year—pure sunshine in a stem. Softly-scented, ruffled, papery, golden, or cream—each one a small marvel. They carried the season beautifully, from the first whisper of warmth in March through April. I’ve already begun planning more for 2026. You can never have too many.

The tulips had a tougher time. Spring arrived hot and early, and some flowered on short stems or not at all. But the ones that flourished? Exquisite. Painterly, elegant, full of character. These will return next year without question.

The ranunculus—so carefully selected, pre-sprouted, fed, and cosseted—were tested by the weather too. It was an unusually warm spring. And still, those that bloomed did so with quiet splendour: multi-petalled, romantic, fleeting.

What’s Blooming Now

Just as spring slips away, the field begins again. And what’s coming next is full of promise.

The first peonies have opened—Buckeye Belle, a deep red single, bold and unforgettable. These were planted in 2023, and though peonies take time to mature, here they are—beautiful already and destined to be even better.

Around them, the sweet rocket is in flower—pale pink, lavender, white and purple. It moves with the wind, airy and light. In my small walled garden, the foxgloves are beginning—Sutton’s Apricot, Alba, and soon the Dalmatian and Camelot series in soft shades of white, rose, peach and lavender.

The geums are abundant—vivid orange and deep red, little bursts of joy. Violas and pansies, sown last year, are blooming freely among the rose beds. The delicate white froth of orlaya is just beginning, and the stocks are starting to show their promise too—fragrant and nostalgic.

The alliums are in full flow—Purple Sensation leading the charge, with more to follow.

And then, waiting quietly in the wings—the roses. On the cusp of opening. The buds are swelling, the stems are reaching. It won’t be long now.

The Quiet Abundance of May

So this is May. The in-between. The almost. A moment of stillness before the rush. A season that doesn’t quite belong to spring or summer—but is no less beautiful for it.

The field might feel uncertain, but the beauty is here. In abundance, honesty, and small wonders. And soon—very soon—the full song of summer will begin.