Molbak’s was much more than a home and garden store

Driving by Molbak’s Garden + Home this afternoon, I felt an emotional gut punch. The building is the same, the signs are the same, and there are cars in the parking lot. But with the exception of the cafe, the inside is a hollowed-out, echoing space. In a matter of days, the entire building will be shuttered. I can’t imagine downtown Woodinville without Molbak’s, any more than I can imagine Seattle without Pike Place Market. Because Molbak’s wasn’t just a home and garden store. It was a haven for community, for creativity, for connecting.  

In its heyday, pre-COVID-19, people flocked to Molbak’s during the run-up to the holidays. Elderly folks arrived in nursing home buses, kids ran around, dogs pulled at leashes. Stepping inside felt like entering Diagon Alley. The scent of free hot coffee and samples of warmed Kringle wafted on the air. The greenhouses burst with poinsettias splashing holiday color everywhere — crimson, magenta, cream, fuchsia, cranberry. The signature poinsettia tree, with benches for family picture-taking, was a beacon of wonder.

Staff clearly loved creating dioramas of Dickensian delight with Department 56 buildings and figurines. It was pure joy to stroll around dozens of decorated trees, consider books on bone broth, sniff the scented candles, check out the Scandinavian candelabra and the Hanukkah candles, and leave with something unexpected: a tiny holiday drum planter that fit a single, 3-inch, live poinsettia. Molbak’s vibrated with festive whimsy and good cheer.

That was the joy of Molbak’s, in any season of the year. A feeling of shared joy. Of possibility. Where else could you get such extraordinary hanging baskets for Mother’s Day? Or such beautiful planters during the two-for-one sale? Or inspiration for simple touches that brightened any space?

Molbak’s wasn’t just a showcase for plants and pots and pillows. It was a place to meet people, to work, to celebrate. How many of us treasure the conversations and hugs we shared beneath the broad swathes of the Tetrastigma in the garden cafe courtyard? Or remember how the tap-tap-tap of our laptop keyboards blended with the thrum of rain and hail on the greenhouse roof while we worked? How many of us sipped wine, watched plays and learned something new at a lecture or class?

So, thank you, Molbak’s. Thank you for teaming up with the Woodland Park Zoo, Saving Water Partnership, the Woodinville Arts Alliance, Oxbow Farm and Conservation Center, among others, to create remarkable experiences throughout our region. Thank you for supporting local growers, artists, and craftspeople. For hosting parties, and lessons, and theater. For providing an information booth year-round to help us identify countless crushed and withered samples of foliage we plucked from unknown shrubs and trees.

The lemon trees, lemon hand soap, and lemon-themed plates are gone. One day, too soon, the buildings and parking lot and signs will vanish, too. Like many, I will mourn that absence for a long time. Whatever new development takes place on Northeast 175^th Street, I will always see the ghostly outline of the greenhouses. In what feels at times like endless change and disruption and loss, it is heartbreaking to see a 67-year-old family-owned business erased from the city center. May it be some comfort that the life and beauty and generosity of Molbak’s will thrive in thousands of gardens throughout Woodinville and the region. And in the hearts of Molbak’s customers always.