A Morning in the Garden: What a Day Really Looks Like for a Hybridizing Family

By Floyd Cove Nursery

Mornings on a hybridizing daylily farm do not begin with alarms or inboxes. They begin with light. The kind that filters across the beds, wakes the scapes, and reminds you that every day in the garden brings something new to discover. Our mornings have become the heart of our learning. They are where we observe, evaluate, adjust, and grow, right alongside the daylilies.

Before the kids are fully awake and the rest of the world gets busy, the farm is quiet in the way only a garden can be. The air feels cool, the colors look clean, and every bloom that opened overnight seems to be waiting for you to notice it. We walk the rows slowly, taking in each flower with fresh eyes. This is where hybridizing truly begins, not on a spreadsheet, but in these early hours when the plants tell you exactly who they are.

We start with the practical things. Which seedlings opened cleanly? Which scapes held strong through the night? Which new cross produced something unexpected? Even after years of gardening in Florida, we have an entirely new appreciation for how fast Zone 9b reveals the strengths and weaknesses of each plant. The morning light shows everything honestly. Good substance. True color. Strong structure. Clean opening. These quiet hours offer the clearest insight into what a seedling might become.

And of course, our mornings are not just about plants. They are about the people who make this place feel alive. Some days, one of the kids wanders out with breakfast still in hand, asking which blooms are new. Another might point out a flower we missed or ask why one looks extra ruffly compared to yesterday. We are all learning constantly through curiosity, observation, and the experience of growing up in a garden that teaches something different every day.

We check the pollination crosses we set the day before, making notes on what took and what did not. We look for pods forming on promising pairs and tag the ones we want to track closely. The rhythm becomes familiar: observe, evaluate, admire, adjust. Hybridizing is never rushed. It is thoughtful, intentional, and shaped by whatever the garden shows you that morning.

By midmorning, the sun begins to rise higher and the garden shifts into its daytime energy. The blooms we admired in the soft light now show their strength in full brightness. The color holds or it does not. The edges lift or relax. The petals keep their shape or begin to soften. These moments shape our understanding of each seedling, guiding our notes and decisions for the season ahead.

As a hybridizing family, we have learned that mornings are where the real work, and the real magic, happens. This is when the discoveries unfold, the lessons sink in, and the garden reveals what it has been working on quietly in the dark. Each day brings new information, new surprises, new questions, and new appreciation for the program we now care for.

We approach every morning with respect for the history that came before us and genuine excitement for the future we are building. We are learning, observing, refining, and growing, just like the seedlings we walk past at sunrise.

A morning in the garden is not just part of our day. It is the foundation of everything we do here. And every day, it reminds us why we have fallen in love with daylilies in the first place.