A trip to Oak Ridge Farm to shop for peonies turned into a day of delicious discoveries and small-town charm.
by CC Parker

Steve Taras, the beloved local floral designer and owner of The Watered Garden, waved a bouquet of eye-popping peonies at the audience of his sold-out Art in Bloom demonstration at the NCMA. As the crowd gave a collective ahhh!, Taras pointed to a person in the crowd. That’s David, he said, of Oak Ridge Farms in Zebulon. He supplies me with most of my peonies.

Sitting with my bestie, Molly, in the audience, we hatched a plan to visit Oak Ridge. We did a little online research: turns out they raise cows, pigs and chickens for meat and grow seasonal flowers “to feed the soul.” David’s known for his prize-winning dahlias, but he also grows hydrangea, zinnias and daisies for cutting in the summer, and they’ll grow sweet peas and tulips in a greenhouse in the cooler months. He also hosts a weekly farmers’ market with other vendors that’s open to guests. It was definitely time for a field trip.

Just a few weeks later, Molly and I set out to Oak Ridge from our homes in Five Points. I confess that in my 50-plus years residing in Raleigh, I had never been to Zebulon and, in fact, was unsure where it was actually located. We headed east on Highway 64, and I had barely finished my coffee when we pulled into the Oak Ridge Farm about 20 miles later.

Once on the property, we immediately saw David’s new farmhouse, and to the right was the commercial shed that houses the market. Being early in the day, there was a smallish crowd and we pulled our car right up front. Molly and I both consider ourselves “black belt shoppers,” so in short order we both were fully loaded with a variety of David’s organic meats, his fresh asparagus and of course bunches of his white peonies. We wandered through the other vendors, sampling the arugula pesto (delish!) and homemade body butter by the nearby My Zen Acres. We rounded off our shopping trip with treats for our families: popcorn and muffins made by Pretty Bakes in Knightdale.

After loading the car, we took a walk across the charming farmyard to take in a little more. We saw turkeys and pigs in the field nearby, a hoop house for ducks and chickens and what looked like an emu in the distance. I went over to gobble at the turkeys and they literally puffed in unison and huffed and gobbled right back, quite indignant that we were invading their space. (Being married to a turkey-hunting-obsessed man, I’ve developed a fairly good gobble, if I do say so myself). We took the hint, but not before stopping to admire Cora the Queen, an enormous black hog splayed out in the mud nearby. She did not respond to our greeting — perhaps my oink is not as convincing as my gobble.

We were so charmed by David’s market that we decided to drive into town. What a lovely discovery! Zebulon’s downtown is a real-life Mayberry. North Arendell Street serves as its main drag, lined with cute restaurants, shops and breweries. Lots of people were out and about and — miracle of miracles! — we easily found a parking spot.

First order of business: a caffeine stop at The Creative Cup, where “A Whole Latte Fun” is promised on the front door. The shop was bustling with folks circulating through for their morning coffee (the shop also serves ice cream and has a separate art studio in the back for group classes). Molly noticed a flier on the community bulletin board for a garden club plant sale that very day, only two blocks away. 

The Steel Magnolias Garden Club sale was being held at the Zebulon Community center. We were latecomers — the sale was ending shortly — but the Magnolias told us to grab a red wagon to haul our plunder. It didn’t take long to fill the Radio Flyer with hollyhock, hostas, ginger lily, curly willow plants and various shades of foxgloves. But what really caught my eye were the various basket gardens planted in all manner of containers, each filled with lovely mixtures of blooming flowers and greenery and carefully labeled with care instructions — I threw two of those in, too. At checkout, Molly bought a raffle ticket for good measure. 

Such a friendly group — the Magnolias even invited us to join them for a beer after the sale at The Norse Brewing Longhouse, their favorite watering hole. We abstained; we wanted to poke around town a bit more.

Mona Pants Mintage Funky Finds and Gifts was our next stop, filled with a cool assortment of vintage this-and-that. Debi, the store’s owner, is passionate about raising money for animal rescue and also funds K-9 bulletproof vests and pet oxygen kits for first responders. All the shop’s proceeds go toward the cause.

She suggested our next shop: Chocolates by Whitney, just 4 miles down the road in Wendell. Located in a tiny old brick building, the shop has glass display cabinets filled with silver trays brimming with gorgeous confections. Selections made and wrapped, we noticed that a long line of regulars trailed out the door, all waiting patiently for their turn.

Steering our car toward home on Poole Road, we happened upon Grasshopper Farm in Knightdale, a charming farmstand-style venue with a tiny general store, food trucks, a plant area, outdoor dining area and even an old-fashioned outhouse. It felt vaguely familiar, even though I was certain I’d never been there (turns out, it’s affiliated with Logan’s Garden Shop in Raleigh). The store serves ice cream, freshly popped popcorn and freshly picked strawberries. Ice cream in hand, we made our way through the property, enjoying the festive air and happy families, and even had a Bigfoot sighting! (He was 6 feet tall and made of concrete — I briefly considered how my neighbors might react if they saw him in my yard.)

Then it was time to head home. We’d only been gone for four hours, but it felt like we’d taken an overnight trip. We’d visited new shops, talked to friendly strangers and taken in the fresh air and farm views that are hard to come by in our increasingly urban city. 

Lucky for me, I ended up with the ultimate souvenir: Molly’s raffle ticket won, and she passed along her prize to me. Now I’ve got a wooden chair with its seat planted with summer flowers by my front door, a little piece of Zebulon to enjoy at home. 

This article originally appeared in the July 2025 issue of WALTER magazine.