For two weeks every summer, this Chester County sunflower field is an Instagrammer’s dream

For two magical weeks every summer, the field explodes into bloom. Thousands of sunflowers blanket the landscape in vivid shades of yellow, their petals aglow in the afternoon sun.

In tiny Elverson, a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it border town in Chester County, the field is a sight to behold — and photograph. Striking and romantic enough to be the backdrop for marriage proposals or the cover of engagement announcements, it’s also a charming setting for family photos. And it’s an Instagrammer’s dream, so camera-ready it has its own hashtag.

Last month, Country Living Magazine named it one of the top sunflower fields in the country, welcome recognition for a field that brings the tiny town nearly 100,000 visitors each year.

“This weekend, I’ll probably have 15,000 people here,” said Rick Frey, 55, who planted the one-acre plot — improbably — to attract customers to his nearby car wash. Frey never envisioned its popularity would soar.

Visitors have come from California, Oregon, Ohio, Florida, Virginia, and upstate New York, he said: “Over the course of the month, we’ll probably get close to 100,000 people.”

The trickle of tourists starts in late July. There are the nature photographers, the parents and kids, the college students, the couples, the out-of-towners, and the passersby who got turned around on the highway and ended up here, this field of radiant sunflowers.

And it’s free. The Freys don’t seek donations, although if people insist, they ask them to send money to a local animal shelter.

“It’s put Elverson on the map,” said Doug Wachenfeld, whose deck overlooks the field.

The sight is a standout, a head-turning burst of color in a mosaic of farmland. And to think, it started with a car wash.

In 2010, seven years after Frey and his wife, Joey, opened Please Wash Me, a fully automated, two-port operation surrounded by cornfields in a borough of 1,300 residents, business was not exactly booming. For one thing, a nearby cornfield had grown close to 10 feet high, blocking the view of the car wash from the road.

The Freys needed more customers, so they thought of a gimmick.

Once, on the way home from a trip to the mountains, Frey saw a sunflower field stop traffic. So he bought some seeds.

“I didn’t put a lot of thought into it,” he said. “I just thought I’d give it a try.”

Now, every summer, when the flowers are at their peak, the field is a blur of cameras and folks navigating their way into the middle of the field, jostling for the best view.. People are there starting at 5 a.m. to snap pictures of dewy petals against the sunrise. They’re there at night for the dusky blue shots. The afternoon is nonstop.

On a recent day, Desiree Foja and Andrew Dayrit, in town from Los Angeles, stopped to pose for photos.

“We’re staying in Philadelphia,” said Foja, 28, who has dated Dayrit, also 28, for the last three years. “And I looked up ‘sunflower fields.’ We rented a car today just to come here.”

Their car was one of dozens in an adjacent parking lot, with every spot filled.

“Two hours ago, the cars were lined up on this side of the road," Frey said, pointing to pavement not meant for parking, “all the way to Route 23. It’s crazy. The weekend will be chaos.”

The car wash, just a few yards away from the field, was quiet, a lone car pulling through every now and then.

“I don’t make a lot of money,” Frey said of the car wash. “Someday, I’ll sell it and that’ll be my retirement. But I’ll tell the next owner they have to plant the sunflowers.”