The number of cookies eaten…

…by a gopher on a photoshoot is equal to the number of midges that encircle said gopher’s head when the rain stops. I know because I was that gopher, and descending the slope down to the fountain saw me subsumed into the itchy-est midge fest imaginable… and in killing time between duties, I ate too many all-butter cookies.

We don’t do many photoshoots these days. We’re often too busy and it’s difficult to come up with something different every time even though we try hard to “push the envelope”. But when we do agree to be florists for the day (or rather Fi does) then we do tend to have a great though exhausting time.

But before I go much further I shall explain that I won’t reveal where or who was involved, besides us of course, so as not to distill the impact of the official photos when they appear en-Web. Enough to say that this was yesterday’s adventure.

The Cotswolds is littered with houses of some grandeur. Mostly typical of the genre – forbidding wall – long driveway – time pieces of note. But while this is not our natural habitat, obviously, I confess they are often lovely places to work. And that’s from a couple of time-served corporate sloggers of old.

The idea is to create a wedding portfolio of shots without the wedding. There are models, dresses, prop designers and suppliers, photographers, and us, florists and labourer. The “brides” are invariably beautiful, some “grooms” are too. But if ever a groom was just a prop then it is on photoshoot day when the pictures will be taken to suggest a beautiful woman in a stunning dress on an amazing day.

We were up early and away by 9.30am having loaded both vehicles with equipment and flowers for the hour long drive to the manor house. Half an hour to unpack into two locations and we were ready for everyone to arrive including our additional team member for the day. Thus, the florists team consisting of two florists and a gopher, me. 

Having set up the girls to work I was despatched into the nearest town to find cherries.

( Creative people! We need cherries, must have cherries.) However my search was fruitless (geddit?) and radishes were not quite the look they had in mind.

Back to the shoot and cookie heaven. The shoot is to take place outside in the magnificent grounds, much preparation is done inside until the moment when the decision is made and the team head out and everyone goes for it. But this is England and we have had the fourth wettest 18 month period since forever. It is cold and the skies are grey and unwelcoming.

Sure enough, we place the arrangements for the first action and the rain comes in right on cue. A sprint to Rosie the Van and I am sheltering in the flower mobile tucking into cookies. Flowers are okay in the rain, aren’t they? That’s where they grow up. But the rain is heavy. When it stops we emerge from our lairs, midges included, and one arrangement at least is beyond repair.

Now there is pressure to get the shoot done before the next downpour. Models and photographers appear, florists tinker and recreate, gophers (of which there is only one) pick up things and move them. Then they pick up things and move them again. Then they will fetch, carry, and move things. 

When the moving of things is done I wander off, out of shot. (I’m always being warned about being in shot, and I laugh and scurry.) With more time to kill I go looking for those small moments of beauty which are everywhere if you care to look and I can happily pass my time doing this and eating those wickedly delicious all-butter cookies until the call comes again.

Eventually the gorgeous bride and her beau have been shot from every angle and there is one final set up to do as dusk sets in – the banqueting table. I come into my own here when I mistakenly dismantle a part of the display rather than one of the other shoot items that is being repurposed. The florists are always the ones working the hardest, physically, on days like this and they didn’t need my “help” making extra work for them! Oh, well, we got there in the end. More hanging around for a while, cookies, and then start the clear up elsewhere.

All packed up, hugs and waves, high-fives and home. I drive Rosie the Van and pack Fi off in the car to find dinner. I love the countryside for the darkness and I miss a turn and find myself wandering through the villages rather than going straight home.  But I am chilled and happy to wander, satnav-less, simply going in the general direction, and it feels like the end of a long day and a good job done. We’re home by 9.30pm – clear the van tomorrow. Now, wine and dinner.

We’ve been working in this industry for 4 years now and made some lovely new friends, worked in some great environments, met creative challenges on all fronts and just had a great time. So many cookies are not good for me though, are they … gonna have to change that …