My work as a florist is to connect the wonder and beauty of the natural world to places and events that call for a saturation of color, texture, mood and emotion. 


Providence,  Rhode Island


My fascination with flowers and love for the seasons began when I was a kiddo in the country.

Winter: Cats tiptoeing through snow, red sleds from the hardware store, ice cakes melting off mittens and onto the floor, the dirty ash and spicy fragrance of a wood stove, cups of chocolate (hot) and monopoly.  

Spring: the thick smell of mud, tiny tender green shoots, daffodils donning Easter bonnets, a crabapple tree hideaway, hard crushes, shrunken shirts of last year, the way bread smells when its carried by soft warm wind. 

Summer: Creektime, crawfish,  picnics in red-checks, tree forts, tent revivals, sticky heat,  sweet peas, tiger lilies and cornflower. Also picking potato bugs off the leaves for a penny per.

Autumn: Fresh cool nights, crackle wood and crunchy leaves, wood chops and new books, piano practice, pumpkins and squash and the very last tomato from the garden. 


If you find resonation in my recollections, then you will probably understand the way I work, we will likely be a good fit, and I look forward to collaborating. 

-Moriah Harris