Death of a Flower

I saw a pbs special on tulips and flower trading in Holland recently.  It was fascinating and the flowers and gardens were a sight to behold.  Nevertheless, since embarking my green journey, I've started seeing things through green tinted glasses. 

The first thing that tweeked the newly formed green section of my brain is that the world's largest flower auction, Aalsmeer Flower Auction, is housed in a warehouse.  Not any ordinary warehouse but one that covers the same square footage of 200 football fields!  What?!  I decided that you can probably see this structure from space and any building that can be seen from a spaceship is decidedly too big.

Who of us hasn't been lured by a $4.99 bouquet of perfect sunflowers or daisies at the supermarket?  I have and I have begged my husband to bring me home flowers for special occassions.  Not anymore.  My days of participating in the commercialized flower business are over.  I got to thinking about how much energy it takes to run an operation like the Aalsmeer Flower Auction.  Even if it's run with compact flourescent bulbs, electric trams and is insulated to beat the band, it is still a giant, truly manufactured environment to provide a commodity that has been given value by humans. 

I can't even wrap my head around how much energy is consumed in farming and harvesting the flowers, transporting them to the auction, sending them on plane rides around the world and putting them in semi trucks and trains to be shipped to smaller cities and then ultimately being delivered to somone's door.  I reckon that a poor tulip spends 90% of it's young life staring at the inside of a truck or cargo hold of a plane.  A sad existence for an exquisite thing.  It's about the equivalent of human trafficking for flora.

Let's go back to yearning for flowers in the winter and experiencing the specific joy of watching something we have planted grow up and make our yards pretty.  Cut your own flowers and enjoy them while they last and find new ways to adorn your kitchen table in the winter.  I found a perfect acorn on a walk the other day and seeing it's perfect little body on my kitchen counter makes me just as happy as a bouquet of grocery store flowers from Holland.