Call Me Delphine

They say the sun is for the garden, and the stars are for the gardener.

Tonight, I want to talk about delphiniums.

In 2026, delphiniums were named Flower of the Year — a beautiful coincidence that I took to heart. Tall, luminous, and unmistakably blue, they rise above the garden with a presence that is calm, confident, and quietly tender.

Delphiniums are not flowers for the casual gardener. They reward devotion. They grow best when given cool nights, structure, and protection from strong winds. Their beauty is the result of care applied with purpose.

I chose the name Delphine for much the same reason.

It is a name I stepped into rather than one I was given — a garden name, chosen for this season of life. Like the flower, it carries strength beneath softness, structure beneath beauty, and a touch of old-world romance.

Delphiniums are a study in contrasts. Their blooms feel almost ethereal, yet their stems invite support. They remind us that growing tall sometimes means leaning on something steady. That needing structure — whether it’s a trellis, a trusted friend, or a moment of rest — is not weakness, but wisdom.

There was a time when my days were shaped by complexity and stillness was scarce. In that season, I learned discipline, persistence, and responsibility. In this life — rooted in soil and seasons — I am learning something else entirely: patience, timing, and the quiet courage to begin again.

Delphiniums do not linger. Their beauty is brief, vivid, and complete. Perhaps that is part of their gift. They show us that some things are meant to peak, to be fully present for a moment, and then to make space for what follows.

So tonight, as the garden settles and the stars take their turn, I invite you to consider what in your life is ready to grow tall — even if it needs a little support. And what name, spoken gently to yourself, might help you step more fully into the season ahead.