Sonoma County has a long growing season and a lot of microclimates. A garden ten minutes from the coast can be a month behind one inland. That means our idea of “seasonal” is never a single list. It is a conversation with the week, the weather, and whichever grower has something ready.
Spring: branches first, then the soft things
Spring arrives before the flowers do. Flowering quince, plum blossom, and the first narcissus show up while the mornings are still cold. Then come ranunculus, anemones, sweet peas, and the last of the tulips. This is a good time for arrangements that feel a little airy: bare branch, a few heavy-headed blooms, something green and floppy spilling over the edge.
Spring stems are tender. They drink quickly and fade quickly. We cut them the morning of an event when we can, and keep them cool until the last possible minute. A spring wedding that leans into that fragility usually looks more alive than one trying to hold a summer palette in April.
Early summer: abundance, with a little restraint
By June, the studio is full. Roses, scabiosa, nigella, feverfew, the first dahlias, and more greenery than we know what to do with. It is tempting to use everything at once. We try to choose a direction instead: all soft and pale, or all hot and saturated, or mostly green with one stubborn color repeated. Abundance needs an editor.
This is also the season for long table arrangements. The stems are strong, the colors hold, and the flowers can sit in shallow water for hours without collapsing. We use a lot of small vessels rather than one big centerpiece, so people can see each other across the table.
Late summer: the dahlias take over
From August into October, dahlias are the center of the studio. They come in every shape except maybe “quiet.” We like them with seed heads, grasses, and branches that have started to go woody. The contrast between a heavy, impossible bloom and a dry stem is the whole point.
Zinnias, marigolds, and the last of the sunflowers fill in around them. This is the time to be generous with color. A late-summer arrangement can look like a market stall and still feel completely at home on a kitchen table.
Autumn and winter: structure returns
Once the frost comes, the palette narrows. We lean on evergreen, citrus, rosehips, dried grasses, and branches with interesting bark. Arrangements become more sculptural. There is less to hide behind, so the shape has to carry the work.
Winter is also when we plan. The garden is quiet, the buckets are empty, and the next year is still an idea. It is a good time to look back at photographs and notice which flowers actually held up, which colors photographed well, and which arrangements felt like the day they were made for.
Why it matters
Seasonal flowers are not a moral test. They are simply better at being flowers. They have traveled less, they are cut closer to their peak, and they belong to the same weather as the people in the room. A branch cut in November knows it is November. That shows.
It also changes the way an arrangement is designed. When you cannot have anything you want, you pay attention to what you do have. The result is usually more specific, and more memorable, than a palette chosen from a picture.
Ask for the week, not the flower. The week will give you something better than a list.