Good Manners at the Capitol: Flowers, Friendship, and the Grace of a Peaceful Transition

An arrangement created to welcome a new chapter—flowers at the Virginia Capitol for the inauguration of Governor Abigail Spanberger.

Southerners have always known how to mark an occasion.

When something matters, you don’t arrive empty-handed. You prepare the house. You mind the details. You make sure the setting reflects the moment—not louder than it deserves, but worthy of it.

At the Virginia Capitol, that instinct takes the form of flowers.

For the fourth consecutive gubernatorial inauguration, the Nansemond River Garden Club had the honor of preparing the Capitol with floral arrangements. Not as ornament, but as acknowledgment. A peaceful changing of the guard deserves to be received properly.

This year’s inauguration, welcoming Governor Abigail Spanberger, unfolded with the familiar efficiency of a place that knows how to do this. The building was busy—staff moving with purpose, schedules holding, transitions occurring as planned. Into that orderly motion came the flowers…

The Nansemond River Garden Club for the inauguration of Governor Abigail Spanberger, Virginia State Capitol Building, Richmond, VA

Sandy Hart has chaired the project each time, and she runs it the way only a seasoned Southern woman can: decisively, quietly, and without the slightest interest in theatrics. Everything gets done. No one needs to be told twice. Which, in volunteer work, is nothing short of heroic. Anyone who has ever served on a committee knows that true competence is the rarest form of generosity—and the least interested in applause.

As the arrangements took shape, the fragrance traveled well beyond the rooms themselves. People slowed. They wandered in. Official errands were briefly forgotten. Even the most determined passerby seemed unable to resist a glance. Flowers have never required an invitation.

Whatever one’s politics, this much holds: flowers and goodwill land the plane. Beauty settles a room. Care creates agreement. In a building devoted to debate, flowers offer a pause—one small, gracious moment where everyone nods and keeps moving.

Behind the scenes, the work moved along in the easy shorthand of women who know one another well. Clippers exchanged. Opinions offered plainly. Laughter kept in check until the job was done. These relationships aren’t built on charm; they’re built on competence, repetition, and trust.

You notice who sees the whole room and who fixes the one stem that’s bothering everyone else. Who shows up early. Who stays late. Who knows exactly when it’s finished.

By the time the last arrangements were placed, the rooms felt settled. Ready to do what rooms like these are meant to do.