Among those first-year seedlings was one that immediately felt special. It didn’t yet have a name, and I didn’t know if it would return the next season with the same shape or color. But something about it—its glow, its poise—made me hope it might one day become the flower I could name after her.

For the past three years, I’ve grown this seedling out again and again, testing for consistency, stability, and that indescribable spark that makes a dahlia truly unforgettable. Each season it returned just as breathtaking as the last: petals layered like silk, a color palette that shifts softly with the temperatures, and a presence in the garden that feels warm, steady, and unmistakably “Marlene.”