taste, verb: to try the flavor or quality of something.
I'm not the first person to compare seasonal, locally-grown flowers to tomatoes. But the tomatoes in my garden have started to ripen, and I'm blown away again at the intensity of the flavor, the juiciness, the balance of sweetness and acidity. It brings your senses to another level. And it's only a brief window of a few months here in Maine, which we could argue makes it that much more special.
So often in life, the quick and easy option wins out. We're busy, and our economy is designed around this. However, this often leaves us with substitutes that are lacking. With intention, we can get reacquainted with freshness, uniqueness, time and place.
I believe strongly that seasonal flowers have the same vibrancy I described of the tomato. While you can buy a tomato or a carnation grown far away any day of the year, you could also choose to savor the flavor and scent that's guaranteed when these items are in season locally. (Have you smelled an heirloom carnation? Heavenly.)
taste, noun:
the sense of what is fitting, harmonious, or beautiful; the perception and enjoyment of what constitutes excellence in the fine arts, literature, fashion, etc.
Even my design aesthetic is informed by what's available seasonally. To me, flowers look best when combined as they might grow together in the garden. In spring, arrangements naturally tend toward light, airy and delicate, while summer brings a more lush and wild feeling.
As we head into August, I'm waiting not so patiently for the dahlias to return. Just as juicy as a ripe tomato.
