This spring, Lake Elsinore turned orange. The poppy super bloom overtook the California valley 70 miles southeast of Los Angeles, painting the gently rolling hills with swaths of neon. Heavier rains over the past two winters have caused the unusually brilliant display, with this year’s being even more intense than in 2018. Selfie seekers descended upon the area, and Instagram was flooded with photos of visitors napping in, rolling in, and sitting in the fields. But in doing so, they were also trampling the delicate flowers.
It’s no secret that Instagram loves a floral aesthetic. Flower walls are nearly an event requirement (so much so that many florists now include them as an order item) and the cultural preoccupation with houseplants (and their internet appeal) has been well-documented. The most dedicated influencers will even literally bathe in flowers for the gram. And the obsession is growing: In January, a San Francisco Chronicle story explored the rising star of flowers and floral shops: “Photogenic and artisanal by nature, they’ve become a status symbol, and florists have, in turn, become influencers.” A recent New York Times article also dove into the relationship between selfie seekers and the city’s flower district revival. “Historically, the sidewalks of West 28th Street have been more cluttered with potted plants than people. … But now, throughout the day, tourists and New Yorkers alike are visiting. And lingering. The vegetation, it turns out, is proving to be popular backdrop for photography and general loafing.” One flower shop owner says people are coming in specifically looking for “Instagram moments,” and it’s forced him to tidy up more. The benefit is free advertising for the shops; the challenge is that it creates crowding and frustration for paying customers (which many of the Instagrammers are not).
Things get decidedly more harmful as this floral fascination is taken to the great outdoors. It’s hardly surprising that Instagram—a platform that also has a passion for wilderness porn—is being overrun by flower festivals and wildflower blooms. Lake Elsinore’s super bloom has become a symbol of the destructiveness of Instagram culture: The pursuit of the perfect photo leads some onlookers to treat the outdoors like a disposable, replaceable backdrop. California’s poppy super bloom is not the only floral event that’s become overrun with Instagrammers. On Friday, CNN reported that overeager visitors caused thousands of euros’ worth of damage to flowers in the Netherlands. The Dutch tourist board and tulip growers launched a social media campaign in response, urging photographers not to trample the bulbs. Last year, an Ontario, Canada, sunflower farm was forced to close its property to the public for good after it was ruined by Instagram photographers. “I can only describe it as like a zombie apocalypse,” one of the family farmers said of the deluge of photo-wielding tourists. Also in 2018, a sunflower farmer in Nova Scotia reported a prized red sunflower had been stolen, among other crop damages. “My field gets beat down quite a bit anyways because people tend to go into the flowers when they’re not supposed to for photos,” said Jen Wilson. Yet another sunflower field, this one in Jakarta, suffered a similar fate in January.
In my own neck of the woods, there is the Wooden Shoe Tulip Fest in Woodburn, Oregon. The small, rural community is not exactly a tourism destination (with the exception of its popular outlet mall, which sits alongside I5). But in recent years, its flowers have become a significant attraction. When in full bloom, traffic to this otherwise sleepy town backs up to freeway exits. (Some friends recently abandoned their Tulip Fest plans when their GPS told them the last 5 miles of the trip would take them over an hour.) Gabrielle Mueller, marketing director for the Wooden Shoe Tulip Farm, says that while photos have always been a popular activity during the festival, Instagram interaction has definitely increased in recent years.
I visited the farm on a Monday; the parking lot was crowded and the fields were full. (Though, by all accounts, it was nowhere near as busy as it gets on weekends.) On the tram ride out to the tulips, I sat next to a group of teenage girls discussing their selfie plans and which photos would make it to their Instagram accounts. Once out in the flowers, I overheard more than a few people describing to their friends/photographers the visual they were looking for. There was an ample supply of signs asking visitors to stay on the wide paths and to not pick the flowers, which worked to varying degrees. (I, a rule follower, took my own photos while sticking strictly to the dirt trails.)
The power of Instagram turns locally popular events like this into massive attractions. The Wooden Shoe Tulip Festival says visitors have been increasing in recent years (the event now averages around 150,000 guests per year). As the photos multiply and go viral, the community gathering becomes a tourist destination, with visitors coming from out of state or even across the country or the world to photograph themselves amid the flowers. The same happened with the super bloom: “Prior to 2017, there wasn’t the social media experience,” a park official in Lake Elsinore told the L.A. Times. “We were not quite as prepared. We just want everyone to enjoy the flowers. To do so with large crowds always requires a lot of patience.” Mueller echoes that sentiment. “Occasionally trampled tulips or damaged flowers are an issue, but with over 40 acres of tulips, it can be difficult for a staff member to see each individual who may be disrespecting the tulips in the moment,” she says. “We provide many wide grass and dirt walking paths between rows of tulips, making it possible to snap a great shot in the fields without having to hop between rows.” That doesn’t mean they don’t though, as Instagram (and I) can attest to.
Flower festival season and wildflower blooms are only just beginning in many parts of the country, and crop damage caused by off-trail photography will continue to plague these areas. Farmers and outdoor recreation workers may not have a problem to worry about much longer: Wildflowers are easy to crush, and once they are, they can’t produce seeds and procreate. And off-trail strolls also cause long-term soil damage, making it more difficult for future crops to grow. Growers and rangers are doing what they can to encourage visitors to be more careful and stay on trails. There’s also an anonymous new Instagram account gaining popularity for shaming tourists acting disrespectfully in these places. At the Wooden Shoe Tulip Fest, Mueller says staff might start using their #TulipTips hashtag, which currently offers tips on how to best enjoy the fields, to relay best practices. “If we end up seeing a bigger issue as time goes on, a few more of those #TulipTips might be about how to capture that perfect tulip fields selfie while respecting the flowers,” she says.
But such frenetic, like-obsessed crowds are difficult to contain, and it’s uncertain whether these relatively gentle suggestions will be enough. On the other hand, it’s very possible that the emergence of whatever the next trend is in Instagram backgrounds will ease some of this environmental stress. The question is, which will fade faster: the fascination with these flowers, or the lush backdrops themselves?