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Fruition Dahlias… The End of a Journey

March 2023 After offering and selling out of a very limited stock of dahlias, Fruition will be pausing on sharing dahlia tubers in future years. 

While we are SO in love with dahlias, we’ve chosen to focus our time and effort on honing our seed & tree offerings and investing in the evolution of our See(d)ing the Change Project.  

There are many sources for dahlia tubers and Hudson Valley Seed Company is a great local option in case you weren’t able to get some from our limited stock this year. 

All of Fruition’s dahlia learning content will remain online. 

We will continue to offer our Hope is a Verb v.1 Dahlia Seeds cultivated from innumerable crosses between dozens of collarette-style dwarf and semi-dwarf dahlias. Their spectrum of diversity is impressive and we hope you try them out & love them as much as we do!

Thank you for traveling on this dahlia journey with us. 

Warmly, 

The Whole Fruition Crew

ps

While we were harvesting, washing, trimming and storing dahlias for the last time in the Fall of 2022, our dear friend and Fruition’s Retail Lead Maddie, shared this poem with us describing her experience that day. You can read it below or watch it recited above <3 

800 x 400 organic dahlia 3

Dahlias

Unearth -ly dawn

Frost and flame survived

To learn – there are winds and springs to come

We cannot weather without rest

One way of calling you home here

A subtle earth-shattering.

Soil turned sudden to schmutz

Clods of sod clung asking mothers

Who remembers what it was to be

Up Lifted 

Exhumed.

Unearth -ed from the mud that made you

Necks cradled

Let loose the rocks that shaped your roots

We crisply fed on far before they blessed the blooms

The hills sing light lingers as many hands make work

Make an uneconomic harvest almost holy

Make work a labor of loss

We are all a labor of

We are all a-labor

As each of us is icarus

vicariously precarious

Even eyes for eyes

Give way to grave

Mistakes

More to lose than the grief one can ever keep

Alive foreboding joy

Remembering what is to lose

Before we’ve even quite let go

The way an ancestor’s smile

Is fogged into a future memory

Not forgotten faces

Recalling all flourishing ways are always

The feeling is

What’s the word?

Mutual, Marilyn

Lay down gentle

A wandering dream dormant

But allways are not lost

For an era’s end may echo

And even an errant echo too

Is a kind song

Is a kind of song

Is a kind-of song

So who will when remember

Who will remember when the wind

was moved by the way we said

Enough

~ Maddie

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