Uninvited, Unbothered, Unbelievably Beautiful

It’s been about two years now since the cornflower showed up.

I didn’t plant it. Didn’t plan for it. It arrived like most good surprises do—uninvited, unbothered, and perfectly timed—tucked between the boxwoods I’ve been trying to coax into respectable globes and the row of daylilies that bloom like they’ve got something to prove.

At first, I nearly pulled it, assuming it was another overambitious weed trying to photobomb my flower bed. But I hesitated. Something about its leaves looked familiar. So I let it stay. And then I forgot all about it.

It did what quiet things do. It waited. It grew. It didn’t demand attention—until it bloomed.

There I was, outside, minding my own business (okay, fine—talking to my boxwoods), pausing to admire the ornamental lilies—the way they stand like divas in full costume, perfuming the air with drama—when I caught a flash of fuchsia and gold in the corner of my eye. There it was—that coneflower. In full bloom. Radiant. That is when I spotted a bee so coated in pollen it looked like it had done a face-plant into a powdered donut or it had just rolled around in sunshine. Right in the heart of that bloom—the one I never planted. The one that planted itself.

It stopped me. Not just because it was adorable (which, let’s be honest, it totally was), but because I realized: I garden with my eyes. They garden with their lives.

And suddenly, I felt a tug. A soft kind of knowing. A reminder that not everything needs planning. That some of the most generous beauty appears when we’re not trying so hard.

Turns out this bold little gatecrasher is a purple coneflower—Echinacea purpurea if it’s feeling fancy. A magnet for bees, butterflies, and apparently, poetic gardeners with short attention spans.

Here’s what I’ve learned since Googling my surprise guest:

🌸 It’s a native wildflower that thrives in rough soil and full sun—no coddling required.

🐝 Its spiky center is actually a constellation of tiny nectar-rich blooms, beloved by pollinators.

🌿 It self-seeds with gusto, picking its own spot like it’s got a sixth sense for good light.

🌼 And yes, it’s the same echinacea you’ll find in teas and tinctures—nature’s quiet little healer.

I didn’t plant it. But this week, I caught this little one mid-meal, absolutely covered in pollen, lost in the heart of the bloom. And it taught me something.

Sometimes the glimmers find you. You just have to leave a little space for the unexpected. ✨

– The Wallflower