It’s April and the studio is full

The scent of wild garlic is wafting through the door. (check out the bonus recipe for Wild Garlic Pesto below). Ranunculus in the corner, their petals still unfurling like a ballerina’s tutu. Sweet peas climbing their way out of a tall vase. Tulips with their heads bent at that perfect angle where they look almost like they are tired of being so beautiful. A delivery of the most stunning white garden roses just arrived this morning, and honestly, I keep stopping just to look at them.

This is what spring means to me after fifteen years of doing this. Not following what everyone else is doing. Not chasing what's popular on social media. It's the moment when flowers stop being a commodity and become a conversation between me and a client about what actually works visually in their space. This is something I intuitively know.

I've said it before and I'll say it again: I don't follow trends. I create for people who know the difference between trendy and timeless. Between fashionable and beautiful.

What Spring Actually Offers

Spring in Ireland is the moment when you remember why you live here. The bluebells are out in Greystones. Actual bluebells, not imported flowers pretending to be woodland. The light changes. The mornings are less brutal. People start thinking about their homes differently because suddenly you can sit outside the cafe in the village with a 99 without getting rained on. Sort of.

It changes what clients want. Not because they've seen it on Instagram, but because they're outside more. They're noticing their gardens. They're thinking about what they want their homes to feel like when they have friends over.

And that's when the good conversations happen.

Design, Not Decoration

The clients I work with aren't looking for something that matches their couch or coordinates with their mood. They're looking for something that works with their space. Something that feels intentional. Something that will actually be beautiful in the rooms they live in.

Spring offers that differently than other seasons. The flowers available right now have a particular kind of lightness. They don't demand to be the loudest thing in the room. They can sit quietly on a table and make everything around them better.

That's design, not decoration.

What's Available, What Works

If you're thinking about bringing spring into your home, here's what I'm working with right now and why it matters:

Tulips are extraordinary this time of year. Not the grocery store kind. The heritage varieties. Cream, blush, coral, deep burgundy. They bend toward the light in the most elegant way. There's something almost Dutch about them, which is appropriate. They're unpredictable. They open fully or they don't. They last for weeks or they're done in days. That honesty is why they're beautiful. Keep them in cool water, away from direct heat, and they'll reward you with real presence.

Ranunculus are different. Their petals seem to multiply as they open. Soft blush tones, peachy creams, butter yellows. They evolve in the vase. They change. Put them in a simple vessel and they do all the work. No filler needed. No clever arrangement required. Just ranunculus, in a glass, letting you watch them unfold.

Sweet peas smell like actual spring. They're delicate. They're fragrant in a way that most commercial flowers aren't anymore. Use them in a looser arrangement where they can ramble a bit. Two weeks minimum, if the water stays fresh. They're a choice for people who care about how flowers actually make a space feel.

White garden roses are the slow bloomers. They open over days, sometimes a week. They're not impatient. They're worth waiting for. Their greenery is lush and full, so you don't need much else. A single stem in a bud vase is enough.

Anemones have that almost poppy like quality. Dark centres. Papery petals. They work alone or in a crowd. They have integrity as a flower. They don't need anything else to feel complete.

Hydrangeas are back. Greens, soft pinks, pale blues. They're structured but not rigid. They add weight to an arrangement without heaviness. They're the anchor that lets everything else breathe.

And Irish grown foliage. Proper greenery from Co. Wexford and Co. Kerry. Not filler. Design elements.

Wild Garlic Pesto

If you are luck enough to have some wild garlic growing near you that you can forrage then here is a simple recipe for Wild Garlic Pesto I think you will like. Since you're eating seasonally and thinking about spring, this is the one recipe worth learning right now. Wild garlic grows everywhere in Ireland for about six weeks. Use it or lose it.

This is not a complicated recipe. It's the simplest possible version because wild garlic is loud enough to speak for itself.

 Pick a good handful of wild garlic leaves. Just the leaves, not the bulbs. If you pull up the bulb, it won't grow back next year and the plant will die out. Wash them gently and pat dry.

Roughly chop them. Put them in a food processor or blender with:

 50g wild garlic leaves (picked and washed)

50g pine nuts (toasted lightly in a dry pan for a minute to release flavour)

50g grated Parmesan cheese

100ml good olive oil

Juice of half a lemon

Sea salt and black pepper to taste

Blitz until you have a thick, chunky paste. That's it. Don't overblitz. You want texture, not a purée.

Taste it. Add more lemon if you want brightness. More salt if you want punch. More olive oil if it's too thick.

Use it on pasta. Stir it into soup. Dollop it onto fish. Spread it on toast. This pesto is designed to make everything it touches taste like spring.

It lasts two weeks in the fridge in a jar with a layer of olive oil on top. You can also freeze it.

The Weddings Happening Now

I'm booked solid with spring weddings. Small ones, mostly. Intimate ones. And every single couple is thinking about how their flowers work with the actual landscape they're getting married in.

There was Maddie and Domhnaill at Killruddery House last summer. That was a wedding where the flowers had to work with what was already there. The architecture, the gardens, the light coming through the windows. Not flowers that demanded attention. Flowers that belonged.

Right now I'm planning weddings at Druids Glen. There's something genuinely peaceful about that place. The Garden of Ireland, they call it. And when you're standing in gardens like that, you don't want flowers that are trying too hard. You want flowers that sit quietly in the landscape and let the space speak for itself.

Grounded arches. Flowers that sprawl from the ground up instead of overhead. White and cream palettes with emerald foliage because that's what the landscape calls for. Smaller bridal bouquets that feel like you could actually carry them for a whole day without your arm falling off. Ranunculus at various heights in stone urns for the reception because that's what works there.

Nothing too clever. Nothing trying to be anything other than beautiful.

Something I Did This Week

I went to Glasnevin Botanical Gardens for the first time since I was a child. It was STUNNING! Did you know that the magnolia is the oldest living example of a living plant. With fossil records dating back over 95 to 100 million years!! magnolia trees existed before bees, making them a "living fossil" that offers insight into the early evolution of flowers. So interesting.

Walking through those gardens, I remembered something I'd forgotten. The way flowers grow in a designed space. How every plant is chosen for how it relates to everything around it. Not for what's trendy. For what works. For what's beautiful.

The spring bulbs are out. The way they're planted, the combinations, the spacing. It's not trend driven. It's design. Real design.

And I realised I've been doing the same thing in my studio for fifteen years without always articulating it. That's what matters. Not what's popular. What works. What's beautiful.

In the Meantime

It's April. The light has changed. There are more hours of daylight for consultations. The flowers are coming fresher now, with longer stems. The daffs and tulips are nearly gone and the bluebells and wild garlic are out in Greystones. You can sit outside and the weather might actually cooperate.

This is the season when people remember that flowers aren't decoration. They're design. They're how you make a space feel like something.

That's spring floristry. That's all it needs to be.

--- Hope you enjoy the bonus seasonal recipe above… and have a lovely final 2 weeks of April.

Chat soon! x

The Florist by the Sea is based in Greystones, Co. Wicklow. We deliver spring bouquets across the coastal corridor from Greystones to Killiney, same day before 1pm or next day by order. All bouquets are made to order using seasonal Irish grown flowers and lush Irish greenery. You can order online or call 089 250 3991 for a chat about what you're after.