Sun flowery day, sweeping the clouds away

If regions had a flower, I’d like ours to be the sunflower.

Friendly, unassuming and resilient, sunflowers meet raging storms with a wink and a Midwestern shoulder shrug. Then, they shake the rain off their petals, straighten their stems and stand tall again.

They start each day with enviable cheer, turn their faces toward the sun and offer homegrown hospitality to every visitor, kind of like the people who grow them.

This weekend, Bergsbaken Farms will host its annual Sunflower Festival, complete with polka bands, wagon rides, corn pits and all kinds of fun activities. For a suggested donation of $2, you can stroll through their fields and see the flowers in all their glory from three different viewing platforms.

We snuck a peek earlier this week as some of our visitors won’t be around for the big festival and I can report that the fields are looking marvelous.

I had an interesting discussion with owner Lee Bergsbaken earlier this year about the extra pressure on him to time his sunflower crop to peak during the specific three days of the festival.

“You don’t have to do that with corn,” he said.

But, corn doesn’t draw visitors from across the country just to pose near its majestic splendor on a golden summer day.

Sunflowers do that.

I hope you get the chance to see the Bergsbaken sunflower fields this weekend. I’m glad we did and we’re hoping to head back in time to snag some pressed sunflower oil before they sell out.

Sunflowery day, sweeping the clouds away.

On my way to where the air is sweet…

I think we found our spirit flowers.
They behaved very well this year and are primed and ready for their big weekend.
How cute is this bashful one? I can relate.
Vinnie and Danni joined us as well, although…
…I’m pretty sure there are better pictures headed their way. Ed had a sunflower field day amidst all that beauty and golden light.
Such a fascinating and Midwestern combination of beauty and practicality.
I think we should all rise every morning and face the sun.

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