How I Foraged My Own Wedding Flowers (and Why It Changed Everything)

Amanda Zambon
8 hours ago
2 min read

Bride and groom smile amid confetti after wedding, bride holding bouquet. Guests celebrate outside stone building. Joyful mood.

The moment that changed everything

It started with wildflowers swaying on a hillside in France.

I was there to plan my wedding; nine months engaged, slightly overwhelmed, and trying to make sense of the endless lists and price tags.

That afternoon, I wandered up to a viewpoint overlooking the Dordogne River, the same spot where my husband had proposed. The air was soft, the breeze warm and gentle. For a few quiet minutes, everything felt simple again.

Standing there, surrounded by wildflowers, I remembered a childhood dream: to pick my own flowers for my wedding.

It sounded naive, but also strangely possible.

I realised what I truly wanted wasn’t another styled event, but a celebration rooted in love, creativity, and nature itself.

Finding My Own Way with Foraged Wedding Flowers

Back home, I began researching and experimenting. I couldn’t find much guidance online on how to make a bouquet from actual wildflowers.

A search for wildflower weddings led to florists selling nursery-grown blooms, not truly foraged wedding flowers.

Hand holding a vibrant wildflower bouquet with white Queen Anne's lace, yellow and purple blooms, against a grassy park background. — My experiments with foraging wildflowers

There were also plenty of warnings, mostly: “don’t pick poisonous plants,” and “they’ll wilt in hours.”

But the more I learned, the more it made sense.

The idea of foraging my own wedding flowers became less of a whim and more of a return... to the land, to joy, to something real.

Foraging on the morning of the wedding

Of course, not everything went to plan. I broke my ankle a few months before the wedding (on my birthday!), was unable to visit the venue again as I had planned to scout out plants, and some relatives quietly worried I’d gone feral.

But the idea in my head became all the more firm. I made the confetti in advance from foraged blossom, and also prepared wildflower seed party favours.

When the wedding day arrived, I was walking - but only just! Luckily, everyone rallied round and pitched in.

On the morning of the wedding, my bridesmaids and I were out at dawn, picking wildflowers in the rain. My aunt arranged them into bouquets. My cousins decorated the chapel. My nieces made the flower crowns. And the groomsmen decorated the dinner tables with evergreens.

The flowers were beautiful: imperfect, wild, and full of life.

Three people in a green field, two picking flowers in red and black jackets, holding a basket. Overcast sky with trees in the background. — Foraging on the morning of the wedding

What I learned from foraging wedding flowers

Looking back, it has it since hit me: It wasn’t about the flowers at all. It was about connection … to the land, to each other, and to a way of celebrating that felt alive.

Foraging your own wedding flowers isn’t just a creative choice. It’s the best way to weave connection into your day — through ritual, the rhythm of the seasons, and with the people you love. And what could be a better way to start a marriage?

Bride and groom smile in a stone-walled room with candles on a table; two people embrace beside them, adding warmth to the scene.

Want to try it yourself?

If you’re dreaming of your own wildflower wedding, my guide — Forage Your Own Wedding Flowers — walks you through everything I learned: from choosing safe plants to arranging them beautifully.