One Day with Alfie Nickerson

ONE DAY WITH | MASTERS & MUSES | WORLD OF CABANA 

In this series, we glimpse into the daily routines and rituals of artists, designers, creatives and tastemakers. Norfolk-based grower Alfie Nickerson, founder of Burnt Fen Flowers, founded his business on his grandfather's land and now supplies British-grown stems around the UK, along with a weekly floral subscription service. He talks Belle White through the rhythms of his nature-filled, commute-free day.

INTERVIEW BY BELLE WHITE | MASTERS & MUSES | 21 JULY 2025

Burnt Fen Flowers founder Alfie Nickerson photographed in Norfolk.

I wake up at 7:30am. No breakfast, just a cigarette and a cup of tea on my porch. That’s my ritual. Silence, if I can get it. I check the forecast, to see what the day is offering.

My ‘studio’ is seconds away. There’s no commute here in Norfolk. I ride over to the farm on my little red motorbike usually accompanied by Wolfie, my long-haired dachshund and loyal co-pilot, hanging on. Known to most as “Chicken”.

Right now, it’s planting season. We’re preparing beds, planting as much as we can, and weeding the flowers we put in two months ago. There’s a small team, usually three or four of us, though there are five in total. Many of them are florists too, juggling children and other work. We’re good mates, no one’s left out. We complain endlessly about the heat, but we laugh about it too.

Lunch is an event. We eat together for an hour: salads, greens, fresh eggs from the chickens. My cousin Flo has a vegetable garden, so there’s always something just-picked. On Thursdays, if we’re running behind, I’ll go grab sandwiches from the local deli, but mostly, it’s all of us around a table, plates piled high.

After lunch, we drift back into the fields, finishing up maintenance or small, slower jobs. We try to save the easy work for the last hours, tinkering, checking and gentle tending. The day ends more like an exhale than a collapse. In the afternoons, we’re picking, deadheading, and doing gentle maintenance, softer jobs for tired hands and minds. We try to get the heavy work done early when the sun is still kind.

Music drifts in and out of the day. Lately, it’s been old country playlists, but the team is so tired of my favorites that everyone’s resorted to headphones.

Alfie's studio at Burnt Fen Flowers @ Alfie Nickerson

Evenings are simple. As soon as work is done, I just want to be inside. We might have a barbecue or a quiet dinner if someone’s around. But no extravagance, just calm. Sleep is non-negotiable: 10 p.m. feels like a luxury; 11 p.m. is already too late. I try to get eight or nine hours. It’s my grounding ritual.

Weekends aren’t really off. There’s always watering or picking. On Saturdays, I try not to do much beyond the essentials. On Sundays, I usually end up cutting flowers for Monday orders: a slow, almost meditative half-day routine. 

On rare, true days off, I do nothing. That’s the dream, just stillness. Though I love a good game of tennis or cricket.

Burnt Fen Flowers founder Alfie Nickerson photographed in Norfolk.

Travel is tricky. I go surprisingly often for someone rooted to a flower patch, but leaving is hard. There’s always something to do; something growing, something needing care. I have plans to visit other flower farms in the West Country, but it’s a delicate balance.

British flowers are ephemeral. The flowers are only here for 28 weeks. The rest of the year, we’re waiting, planning, dreaming. You can’t force peonies in November or dahlias in February. I want people to understand that: to feel the fleetingness of them, to savor what’s in season rather than chasing the impossible. If you want seasonal British flowers, that’s us. We do everything ourselves, in rhythm with the land. It’s unpredictable, physical, and sometimes brutal. But it’s beautiful.