Harvesting Dahlias: Day Two
- Debra Flaming
- Oct 14
- 2 min read
Donuts, Rain, and the Wonder of Friendship
This morning dawned brisk and bright—40 degrees with a possibility of rain in the forecast. Our friends Steve and Cathy arrived bearing donuts (a farmer’s breakfast of champions) and cheerful spirits, ready for day two of dahlia digging. All four of us, now seasoned dahlia diggers, exchanged good-natured groans as we stretched our backs and geared up for another round.
Earlier, before we even hit the first row, Dion reached for the aspirin bottle and asked if I had a back brace he could borrow. I found mine—but it only wrapped halfway around his waistline. That sent him calling cousin Kenny for backup. Soon, we were a sight to behold: four determined sixty-something’s, slightly creaky but determined to recapture our youthful vitality by tackling the dahlia harvest together.
About an hour and a half in, nature sent us a “gift” in the form of a chilly rainstorm. We took cover under a tin roof, where the sound of rain gave us the perfect excuse to enjoy more donuts and conversation. After we realized the rain would continue for several more hours, Steve suggested they could use the break to run a few errands. Cathy quickly objected—she was wearing her muck boots for Heavens Sake! Steve found this highly amusing, since her footwear now limited their shopping options. With a grin, he declared they’d better stick to the “manly stores” where muddy boots were part of the dress code. Dion used the break to visit the chiropractor (in hopes of walking upright again), and I used the time to catch up on some of my photo editing,
By midafternoon, the rain clouds lifted, and sunlight poured over the fields like liquid gold. Refreshed and determined, we regrouped and got back to work. The tractor rumbled down the rows, turning over the earth and revealing one treasure after another—fat, beautiful clumps of dahlia tubers. With each crate we filled to the brim, our pace picked up, our teamwork clicked into perfect rhythm, and together we tackled the rows with cheerful determination.
Tomorrow begins the next phase: washing, drying, dividing, stamping, and storing the tubers with vermiculite. It’s a rhythm of work and wonder—the kind that weaves hard labor with joy.
I’m continually amazed by how God threads beauty into even the most ordinary moments:
The soft patter of rain on the roof.
The armloads of dahlias Cathy gifts to neighbors just to make someone smile.
The strength of friendship that keeps our dreams blooming.
The sunlight breaking through at just the right time.
Time now for a hot meal, a soak, and a prayer for stronger backs tomorrow. May God help us—and may the sunshine hold just a little longer.
Sincerely grateful for sunshine & strong coffee,
Debra Flaming
