In the Year of Our Lord 1557, Bloody Mary sat upon the English throne, the last five Protestant martyrs of the Reformation were burnt at Canterbury, and gentleman farmer and rustic poet Thomas Tusser took quill in hand to scratch out what could be called a Tudor Era secrets-of-successful-people manual. “A Hundreth Good Pointes of Husbandrie” provides lots of good advice on being a good husband, a good farmer, a good subject. It was an instant best seller.
“America imports 80 percent of its floral wares from South America, mostly from Columbia.”
“Make money thy drudge, for to follow thy warke,” counseled Tusser, “and Wisdom thy steward, good Order thy clarke.” He also liked a tidy farm. “The diches kept skowred, the hedge clad with thorne; doth well to drain water, and saveth thy corne.” He dabbled in couples therapy. “Where couples agree not, is rancor and poysen; where they two kepe house than, is never no foysen [abundance].” And he offered what reads like observations on seasonal phenomena. “Sweet April showers, do spring May flowers.”
Scholars believe Tusser actually intended his bombshell revelation about the connection between rain and flowers metaphorically, encouraging perseverance and optimism during difficult times. Half a millennium later “April showers bring May flowers” is a silly little truism we toss out whenever it rains in April, which is fine, except that it’s not true. April showers don’t bring May flowers, jet aircraft do. Big, four-engine cargo planes, their cavernous holds packed with refrigerated freight containers stuffed with Mother’s Day bouquets, long-stemmed love notes winging between continents on the way to a wedding reception near you.
America imports 80 percent of its floral wares from South America, mostly from
Columbia. Last year, 70,000 tons of roses, carnations and chrysanthemums took the 1,500-mile flight from Bogota to Miami, where a not-so-small army of customs officials examined them for unwanted riders before waving them on to a massive fleet of trucks for transport to florists all across the U.S. of A.
Bouquets and boutonnieres are big business in Bogota, second only to coffee. Cut flowers provide at least 140,000 full-time, year-round jobs, plus another 60,000 seasonal positions. Women produce about 70 percent of Colombia’s flower power, driving economic growth and improving social stability across the region. In any given week, 40 planeloads of flowers will make the trip from BOG to MIA, a number that easily doubles during the several weeks before Valentine’s Day and Mother’s Day. All together, they add up to about 4 billion stems a year worth a sweet $3.3 billion dollars.
“Roses have symbolized romantic love since Classical Greece, at least 2,500 years ago.”
Believe it or not, there are good reasons why we buy some of the world’s most perishable commodities from distant parts instead of picking them in our own back yard. The secret to Colombia’s floral success lies deep in its rich, volcanic soils and shines down from its perfectly regulated equatorial skies.
The country’s capitol rests adjacent the fertile Cundinamarca savanna, a perfect garden for the cultivation of roses and carnations. East of the city, the Antioquia Plateau provides dark, loamy nourishment for chrysanthemums and hydrangeas. Blessed with nutritious earth, an ever-moderate high-altitude climate, perfectly punctual 12-hour solar cycles, and torrents of mineral-rich water pouring down from the Andes, Colombian flowers are generally bigger, brighter, better.
Even so, one might think all that international travel would take the starch out of a fragile foreign bloom. In fact, the typical travel time between Cundinamarca and Main Street, USA, is less than 100 hours, and industry experts insist that robust Colombian blossoms still last longer on the shelf than their locally-sourced counterparts. Factor in America’s high labor costs and it’s no wonder domestic flower growers have been pushed to the back of the bed. To compete, American flower producers are increasingly turning their trowels to second string varieties.
Roses have symbolized romantic love since Classical Greece, at least 2,500 years ago. Carnations have signified maternal and/or fraternal affection for just as long. The Colombians have pretty well sewn up those markets.
Yankee greenhouses can thank the socially cautious Victorians for keeping them in business. The Victorians wrote a virtual dictionary of flower language, primly relying on the well-chosen posy to convey passions and fancies they were too proper to say out loud, which sentiments could fill a book. The term is floriography, and with virtually every flower assigned a meaning and message, B team blooms can help you speak your mind, say your piece, or get it off of your chest with just a cellphone and a credit card.
If roses are for the person you’re crazy about, daffodils are for the person who just thinks you’re crazy. Often associated with new beginnings, daffodils are also the flower of unrequited love, a bright yellow plea for attention, a pitiful troth plighted in a pot. Similarly, peonies bespeak bashfulness, whether or not you include your name on the card.
Big, bright and bold, the Victorians viewed the relentlessly cheerful sunflower as haughty, conceited, a self-important poser. If you know someone who’s getting a skosh too big for their britches, cut them down to size with a half-dozen sunflowers.
The blossom of deception, snapdragon is best sent to those who’ve betrayed your trust. If that botanical indictment fails to win an immediate apology, follow it up with an attractive arrangement of petunias and fumaria, the first signifying deep resentment and anger, the second hatred. If your dissatisfaction persists, wire a nice spray of tansies, the fragrant Victorian equivalent to a declaration of war. If you win, send them some Bird’s-Foot Trefoil, an unmistakable announcement of revenge. If you lose, treat yourself to marigolds, the flower of despair.
April showers notwithstanding, on May 10th, a dozen long-stemmed red roses will still be the right and proper way to let your mom know she’s the bee’s knees. Elegant, aromatic, exquisite, they’ll be coming a very long way just to say “I love you.”
