White Flower Farm, Morris

When I was young, long before I knew there was a town called Morris somewhere in that mysterious region of Connecticut far away from the shore, I knew there was a White Flower Farm. That's because their catalogue, full of rows of blooms with fanciful-bordering-on-absurd names, was always floating around my parents' house. I don't know if my mom had ever even ordered anything from White Flower Farm; I suspect not. Still, it kept arriving, unbidden, and whenever I flipped through it, it seemed to convey an unassailable authority: it may not have contained all the world's flowers, but it contained the ones that mattered.

I don't remember when I learned that a physical store was behind the catalogue, or that it was regarded as somewhat of a destination. (47 Yelp reviews!) But years went by between that realization and the moment when, a few days ago, I happened to be passing through Morris and decided to go check it out for myself.

As it happens, White Flower Farm is lovely, though a bit too upscale for my personal taste. (I prefer the more ramshackle, less curated, but more entertaining garden centers that proliferate in eastern Connecticut. Amusingly, since I wrote that post, I have acquired a yard, but still lack any ability or desire to do anything in or to it.)

Like so many Litchfield County destinations, half the attraction is the gorgeous drive that takes you there. You could plan a day based on scenic drives and gardens, combining a trip to White Flower Farm with a visit to Hollister House in neighboring Washington and Topsmead State Forest in Litchfield..

I didn't buy anything at White Flower Farm, though there were some tempting gifts in the little store - and by gifts, I mean the kind you want to buy for yourself. And of course, there were the flowers, displayed in a bucolic setting that was almost - but not quite - as fanciful as those names I remember reading as a child.