In Memory of Judy Horn Harlan

1943 - 2008

At the time of Judy's death, one of our long-time employees, Megan Dibley, composed the following poem in Judy's memory:

A woman from Kentucky
Rides through the rows:
zinnias, celosia, and sunflowers.
A wide brimmed hat
shades her eyes
from the rays of the August sun.
She weaves
in and out
like an embroidery needle
through cloth
selecting the best mother nature
has to offer.
She explains the correct arrangement
as if each long-stemmed blossom
is a facet of life
and she is telling me the best way to live.
I listen intently.
Soft yellow petals,
but the center should be tight.
Keep turning.
See it from every angle.
Her fingers, stained with earth,
and nimble.
The bouquet evolves with grace.
These flowers,
these jewels of God,
ruby, emerald, diamond,
come together.
He has created beauty.
It is laces in the anatomy of
a country flower.

-Meg Dibley


Working a flower farm is no easy task. It involves sweating in the hot sun in the summertime, dealing with the latest insect or weed infestation, and trying to accomodate for too much or too little rain. Some of the pleasures of retirement are forgone, such as dance lessons at the senior center or golfing at the local club.

Despite this, the rewards greatly outweigh the hard work. Judy Harlan loved working with flowers. When hardships are faced, the memory of Judy powers on the progress of the farm. Both to those who knew her well, and those who never had the pleasure of meeting her, her presence is still felt at Belvedere. This explains why we perservere. We grow more things than flowers.