How My Wildflower Garden Taught Me a Lesson in Thankfulness
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- By Jennifer Crutcher
- Posted in butterfy wildflower garden, giving thanks, thanksgiving
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What My Butterfly Garden Taught Me About Joy, Patience, and Letting Life Surprise You
This year, I didn’t plant a traditional garden. No neat rows, no careful spacing, no color-coordinated beds like I usually dream of. Life was busy, and honestly? I just didn’t have the time or energy to plan anything big. So I took the easiest route I could: I scattered a mix of wildflower seeds and hoped something pretty would come up.
I imagined pinks. Purples. Blues. Soft colors I always gravitate toward. The girly shades that match my vibe and my front porch pots.
And for a while, things did grow… but nothing looked familiar.
By the end of summer, these giant green stalks started shooting up, four, five, even six feet tall. Some were taller than me. And I’ll be honest with you: I thought they were weeds. Big ones. The kind you regret letting go too long.
More than once, I walked outside thinking, I should just pull these up. They’re not what I planted.
But something in me hesitated. A little voice said, Just wait. Give it time. You planted wildflower seeds, one of these has to be something good.
So I left them alone.
And then one day, it happened, little buds everywhere. And then those buds opened.
Bright, fiery orange blooms.
Orange.
The one flower color I never choose on purpose.
The color that doesn’t match anything on my porch.
The color I always walk right past in the nursery.
But there they were: Orange cosmos, swaying in the heat like they owned the whole front yard.
I didn’t expect to love them. But life has a funny way of softening you.
Those orange blooms started drawing in bees by the dozens. Butterflies by the hundreds. Monarchs, queens, painted ladies, buckeyes, swallowtails, every day felt like opening the door to a tiny, fluttering miracle. Suddenly, my yard wasn’t “off-brand” or mismatched. It was alive. It was thriving.
And those orange flowers, the ones I almost cut down, became the highlight of my day.
They taught me a lesson I didn’t know I needed:
Just because something isn’t what you would normally choose doesn’t mean it won’t become a source of joy.
Sometimes the things we think are “not us,” the things that feel out of place, the things that don’t match our plans, end up being the exact things that bring beauty into our lives.
Those cosmos weren’t planted for my aesthetic.
They were planted for the butterflies.
For the bees.
For the greater good of the garden.
And yet… they gave so much back to me. Every time I step outside now, I hear the soft buzzing. I see wings drifting and dancing through the air. I feel the peace that only comes from quiet, unexpected beauty.
This little wildflower garden taught me to loosen my grip on what I think things should look like. It taught me to give things a chance, even the tall, awkward, “is this a weed?” things. It taught me that joy doesn’t always arrive in our favorite color.
Sometimes joy is bright orange.
And sometimes the most beautiful things in our lives are the ones we almost pulled up without giving them a chance.
So if this coming year brings you something unfamiliar… something unexpected… something that doesn’t look like your usual choice… don’t discount it too quickly. It might be your orange cosmos, the thing that grows tall, blooms boldly, attracts miracles, and fills your days with a peace you didn’t even know you needed.
A Thanksgiving Reflection
As we step into this season of gratitude, I keep thinking about those orange cosmos and everything they brought into my life, joy I didn’t expect, beauty I didn’t plan, peace I didn’t know I needed. And I realize how often the best gifts arrive in forms we might overlook at first.
This Thanksgiving, I’m carrying that lesson close: to stay open, to be patient, to welcome the unexpected, and to appreciate the small, quiet miracles happening right outside my front door.
My wish for you, whether you’re a gardener, a butterfly watcher, or someone simply trying to find a little calm in a busy world, is that the coming season brings you your own version of “orange cosmos.” Something bright. Something surprising. Something that fills your days with peace and reminds you that joy has a way of blooming even when life doesn’t go exactly as planned.
And from my heart to yours, thank you for being part of The Periwinkle Shoppe community. Your support, your kindness, and your presence mean more than you know. I hope your Thanksgiving is filled with warmth, beauty, and maybe even a butterfly or two.
Jennifer Crutcher
The Periwinkle Shoppe



Beautiful story and advice! When I count my blessings today, I will be counting our friendship. You are such give to me. Happy Thanksgiving. Your cosmos and your butterflies