June at Hickman Hollow Farms
Ok, get ready because this blog had me in my heart just a bit, and it’s a tad longer than normal. But oh my goodness, so much has happened in June, and I just really feel like sharing it all…although I am likely leaving things out.
The Month We Opened the Gate
If someone had told me six months ago that we would be welcoming families into our flower field before the end of June, I probably would have smiled politely and thought, "I sure hope you're right."
Back then, we were still planting seeds under grow lights in our kitchen. The ranunculus were hidden beneath frost cloth (and snow), the dahlias were still sleeping in boxes of vermiculite, and we were counting down the days until we could finally move into the house. Everything felt like it was happening in the future, and if you know me at all, you know I like things to move fast. Patience escapes me at times…just ask my husband.
Then June arrived.
Somehow, without me even realizing it, all of those little projects that had filled our weekends for months began coming together into something much bigger. The flower field wasn't just full of blooms anymore. The barn wasn't just a place to store tools. The driveway wasn't just a driveway.
People were pulling into it to pick our flowers.
I remember walking around that Saturday morning, June 13th, before anyone arrived, making sure the buckets were where they were supposed to be, checking flowers one last time, straightening things that probably didn't need straightening, and wondering if I had forgotten something important. My mind was running through every possible scenario. Did we have enough flowers? Would people know where to park? Would they enjoy themselves? Would anyone even come?
I don't think those thoughts ever really go away when you pour your heart into something.
When you spend months building something, there comes a moment when you have to let other people experience it. And as exciting as that sounds, it's also incredibly scary. Up until that point, Hickman Hollow Farms had mostly lived inside our heads. Oh sure, friends and family had seen it. We had shared pieces of it online. But now complete strangers were going to walk through something that Jamie and I made in a short period of time.
That's a little terrifying.
Then the first car pulled in. Then another. And another.
Before long, there were people walking through the flowers carrying buckets, laughing together, taking pictures, and stopping every few feet because they had found another bloom they loved.
I wish I could adequately explain what that felt like.
It wasn't pride.
It wasn't relief.
It was something quieter than that.
Gratitude.
Gratitude that people chose to spend part of their Saturday with us. Gratitude that they saw beauty in the same place we had fallen in love with. Gratitude that they believed our little farm was worth the drive.
I caught myself several times throughout the day simply standing still and watching.
Children choosing flowers for their bouquets.
Couples wandering slowly through the rows with no particular destination.
Friends helping each other decide between one bloom or another.
Moms crouching down to capture the perfect picture of their kiddo in front of the zinnias.
It finally hit me that this wasn't really about flowers anymore.
The flowers had simply brought everyone together.
That realization stayed with me for the rest of the month.
Because June wasn't just our first U-Pick.
It was the month Hickman Hollow Farms stopped feeling like a dream we were chasing and started feeling like a place where memories were being made.
The Flower Fields Finally Woke Up
If May was the month everything began to bloom, June was the month the flower field found its confidence.
Every morning started the same way. Before opening my laptop for my daytime job, I would grab a cup of coffee and head outside for a walk through the rows. I never really had an agenda. Sometimes I carried pruners. Sometimes I carried a bucket of soapy water to handle those pesky Japanese beetles. Most mornings I just wandered.
I learned pretty quickly that no two mornings looked the same.
Something new had always bloomed overnight.
One day it was another patch of zinnias showing off colors I hadn't noticed before. The next morning the gladiolus seemed twice as tall as they were the day before. Then the dahlias started joining the party, and suddenly every walk through the field felt like opening little presents one bloom at a time.
I don't think I'll ever lose that feeling.
After all the planning that started last fall, all the seed starting over the winter, and all the planting we did this spring, seeing the field finally come alive felt almost surreal. There were moments when I would stop in the middle of a row, look across the flowers, and remember exactly what that same spot looked like just a few months earlier.
Lots and lots of grass.
Then came silage tarps and rows plotted out.
Now those same rows are filled with color. Can you believe this is the same spot?!
One of the biggest stars of the month was, without question, the dahlias.
I had been waiting on them for what felt like forever.
After planting more than a thousand tubers this spring, I knew they would eventually become the centerpiece of our summer flower field. I just wasn't prepared for how excited I would be when the first blooms finally appeared.
Salmon Runner was one of the first to welcome us, and I still smile every time I see that warm peachy bloom. Sweet Nathalie wasn't far behind with her soft, romantic colors, and before long Bonesta joined them, reminding me once again why I had been so excited to grow these varieties. And then there was Wizard of Oz, Lavender Perfection, Labrynth, and oh my goodness, just so many.
Every new bloom felt like meeting an old friend for the first time.
The funny thing about dahlias is that no matter how many photos you've seen online, they somehow look even better growing in your own field.
I found myself cutting bouquets for the house almost every evening, partly because I wanted flowers inside and partly because I couldn't stop admiring them.
I don't think Jamie minded too much either. He just had to get used to multiple bouquets appearing on our tiny dining room table.
Our First Blooms... Then Our Second... Then Our Third
When we started planning our first U-Pick, I only ever thought about the first one. One special Saturday. One chance to open the gates.
But, before I knew it, June had become a month of flower-filled Saturdays, each one a little different from the last.
The first weekend taught us how people naturally moved through the flower field. We watched families spread out across the rows, children carrying buckets that looked almost too big for them, and friends wandering slowly from bloom to bloom searching for just the right stem.
By the second U-Pick, we found ourselves making little improvements. We adjusted where things were set up, paid attention to what questions people asked most often, and started noticing the little details that make visitors feel comfortable. Our picnic tables started to get noticed and were being used to put bouquets together.
By the third weekend, things began to feel comfortable and familiar.
Not routine, because I don't think watching people experience the flower field will ever become routine for me, but comfortable.
One of the things that amazed me most was how quickly the field changed from week to week. Every Saturday looked different than the one before it. Some flowers had finished their season while others were just beginning. New dahlias seemed to open overnight, more gladiolus joined the field, and the zinnias just kept producing as if they had no intention of slowing down.
It reminded me that no two visits to a flower farm are ever exactly the same.
The flowers are always changing.
And I kind of love that.
The Best Part Wasn't the Flowers
If you had asked me a few months ago what I thought my favorite part of owning a flower farm would be, I probably would have said the flowers.
Now I'm not so sure. I think it's the people.
Over the course of the month, we met so many wonderful families. Some had driven just a few minutes. Others came from over an hour away because someone had shared one of our posts or told them about our little farm.
Every conversation seemed to leave me smiling.
People shared stories about gardens their grandparents used to grow. They asked thoughtful questions about the flowers, wanted to know how long we'd been farming, and seemed genuinely excited about everything we have planned for the future.
One of the things I noticed almost immediately was how differently people moved once they stepped into the field.
Everyone arrived talking.
Everyone left...slower.
People weren't rushing from one thing to the next. They wandered. They laughed. They took pictures. They stood quietly looking at flowers for a while before choosing the perfect one to cut.
It was exactly the kind of experience Jamie and I had hoped this place would create.
A chance to slow down and just breathe. A chance to remember that beauty doesn't have to be complicated.
There was another surprise too.
Several people came back.
As a brand new flower farm, I don't think there is a greater compliment than someone enjoying their visit enough to return the very next weekend. It reminded me that we aren't just growing flowers.
We're growing relationships.
And I think that's even more important.
A Little Farm Store with Big Dreams
One thing became very obvious during our June events.
People are excited about so much more than flowers.
Right now, our little farm store is exactly that...Little.
We transformed the front office in our horse barn into a temporary farm store. It isn't fancy yet, and it certainly isn't finished, but it gave visitors a small glimpse of what we're working toward.
For now, it mostly served as our check-in area. We had a few bouquets, some of my artwork hanging on the walls, and just enough to welcome everyone as they arrived.
But what surprised me were the conversations.
Over and over people asked the same questions.
"When will your teas be ready?"
"Are you making soaps?"
"Will you have herbs?"
"What kinds of things are you planning to sell?"
I absolutely loved hearing those questions because they confirmed something Jamie and I have believed from the very beginning. Hickman Hollow Farms was never meant to be just a flower farm.
Flowers are where the story begins. They're what first catch people's attention. But there is so much more we hope to share.
Jamie's handcrafted herbal teas made with herbs grown right here on the farm.
Herbal facial steamers.
Infused oils, salves, and other herbal products.
Natural body care products.
Fresh vegetables, fruit, and herbs right from the garden.
Handmade gifts.
Seasonal products inspired by whatever the farm is producing at the time.
The temporary farm store is only a stepping stone. Someday we hope to build a dedicated farm store near the front of the property, but for now, I think there's something charming about welcoming people into the barn.
It feels honest.
Like you're getting to see the farm exactly where it is in its journey.
And I wouldn't have it any other way.
Looking Around and Dreaming Bigger
As wonderful as June was, something unexpected happened.
Instead of crossing ideas off my list...
I kept adding new ones.
Every visitor seemed to spark another thought.
What if we built a Children's Garden where kids could pick flowers all their own?
What if families could come for tea parties in the garden?
What if we offered painting workshops surrounded by flowers?
What if photographers had even more beautiful spaces to work in?
I've also continued spending time designing the herb garden that has been living in my imagination for months. The more I think about it, the less I want it to be simply a place where herbs grow.
I want it to feel like an escape.
Somewhere people can wander slowly, brush their hands across rosemary and lavender, smell lemon balm warming in the afternoon sun, and leave feeling just a little more peaceful than when they arrived.
Maybe that's because I need a place like that too.
Living on the farm has taught me that there is always another project waiting.
Always another bed to weed.
Another fence to fix.
Another flower to harvest.
Sometimes we all need somewhere to simply sit. I think that's what I want this garden to become.
Not just for our visitors. But for us too.
New Faces Around the Farm
June wasn't just about flowers. It also brought a few new faces to Hickman Hollow Farms, and they've already made themselves right at home.
One of the biggest additions this month was Rose and Little, our two Great Pyrenees. If you've never been around livestock guardian dogs before, they really are incredible animals. They're calm, gentle, and always seem to be paying attention to what's going on around them. Even though they're still settling into life here, you can already see those guardian instincts beginning to shine through.
Before long, they'll have an important job helping watch over the sheep we plan to add to the farm. For now, though, they're simply enjoying life. They spend their days exploring every corner of the property, keeping an eye on one another, and finding the coolest place they can to escape the South Carolina heat. It's been fun watching them slowly learn that this place is home.
As if two giant fluffy dogs weren't enough excitement for one month, we also welcomed a flock of baby chicks to the farm.
I don't know what it is about baby chicks, but they have a way of making even the busiest day feel a little lighter. They spend their time chirping back and forth, racing around the brooder as if they're training for some tiny chicken Olympics, and then, without warning, every single one of them decides it's nap time and they pile into one little fluffy heap.
I find myself checking on them far more often than I probably need to, but I don't mind one bit.
One thing I've realized over the past few months is that while flowers may be what first catch people's attention, animals have a way of capturing their hearts. As we continue building Hickman Hollow Farms, I hope children who visit remember both. Maybe they'll remember picking their first bouquet, but I also hope they remember feeding chickens, watching sheep graze, or stopping to say hello to Rose and Little on their way through the farm.
That has always been part of the dream too.
Sharing the Bigger Dream
One of the most meaningful things I did this month actually had nothing to do with planting flowers or hosting events.
It happened while I was sitting at my computer writing a blog post.
For months I've been sharing updates about what we've been doing around the farm. New flower varieties. Construction projects. Moving into the farmhouse. Starting seeds. Building gardens. But I realized there was one part of the story I had never fully shared.
The why.
So this month I finally published So...What's Next for Hickman Hollow Farms?
I have to admit, writing that post made me a little nervous. It's one thing to tell people what you've done. It's another thing entirely to tell them what you hope to become.
Dreams feel safe when they're tucked away in your own heart. You can change them, add to them, and imagine them quietly without anyone else knowing. The moment you share those dreams out loud, they suddenly become real. Other people begin to picture them too.
After publishing the blog, though, I felt something I wasn't expecting.
Relief.
Not because everything is figured out. We still have years of work ahead of us, and there are plenty of ideas that exist only on paper right now. But it felt good to finally let everyone see what Jamie and I see every time we walk this property.
We don't just see flower fields.
We see children running through a garden designed just for them.
We see workshops where people learn to make herbal teas, botanical body care products, and beautiful things with their hands.
We see an herb garden filled with fragrance and quiet places to sit.
We see birthday parties, photography sessions, family picnics, and people slowing down long enough to reconnect with nature.
The flowers are simply where that story begins.
It Was Never Really About Flowers
One evening after our third U-Pick, I wandered back out into the flower field after everyone had gone home.
The buckets had been put away, the barn had grown quiet, and the last bit of evening sunlight was settling across the flowers. It was one of those peaceful moments that almost asks you to stop and think for a while.
As I stood there, I found myself thinking about the day and how beautiful it was.
Children proudly carrying bouquets almost as big as they were.
Parents taking pictures of their kids.
Friends laughing as they wandered through the rows together.
People stopping just to smell a flower before moving on to the next one.
And that's when something finally clicked.
Hickman Hollow Farms isn't really about flowers.
Flowers are simply the invitation.
They're what bring people here, but they're not what I hope people remember years from now.
I hope they remember spending a Saturday morning with someone they love.
I hope they remember slowing down for a little while in a world that rarely encourages us to do that anymore.
I hope they remember their child picking out the "perfect" flower or sitting by the pond watching dragonflies skim across the water.
The more I thought about it, the more I realized that everything we're building points back to the same idea. A bouquet preserves a beautiful morning. A pressed flower preserves a favorite bloom. Jamie's handcrafted teas preserve the herbs we grow so they can be enjoyed long after the garden has gone to sleep for the winter. The stories I write here preserve this journey for our family and, hopefully, for yours too.
Everything we're creating is really about preserving moments that would otherwise quietly slip away.
Once I realized that, so many of our plans suddenly made sense.
The Children's Garden.
The herb garden.
The workshops.
The farm store.
The photography sessions.
They're all simply different ways of helping people create memories they'll carry home with them.
Flowers just happen to be the beginning of the story.
Looking Ahead to July
As I sit here writing this, it's hard to believe we're already halfway through the year.
Six months ago, we were starting seeds under grow lights in our kitchen and wondering if we'd ever get moved into the farmhouse. A few months later, we were dragging sprinklers across a dry flower field, praying for rain and hoping everything we'd planted would survive.
Now families are walking through rows of flowers we grew with our own hands.
That sentence still feels a little surreal to write.
July is already shaping up to be another exciting month. We have our Red, White and Bloom event on the 4th of July, more U-Picks planned, thousands more dahlias preparing to bloom, and a long list of ideas that somehow keeps getting longer instead of shorter.
But before we jump into everything that's ahead, I want to pause for just a moment and simply say thank you.
Thank you to everyone who has visited the farm, shared one of our posts, told a friend about us, or simply followed along with our journey. Every encouraging message, every kind comment, and every recommendation has helped our little farm grow in ways you may never fully realize.
Most of all, I'm thankful for God's faithfulness through every season we've walked together. He has been with us through the waiting, through the setbacks, through the uncertainty, and now through the incredible joy of finally opening our gates.
We still have so much to build. There are gardens to plant, dreams to chase, and countless projects waiting their turn. But for the first time, I don't feel like we're simply working toward the dream anymore.
I feel like we're living it.
And I cannot wait to see what July has in store for Hickman Hollow Farms and you!
