Irises--that perennial staple of Grandma Gardens--is one of my all time favorite flowers. I love the orchid-like petals and the shimmering colors (damn! I'm painting an awesome picture here!) and the orange creamcicle scent. I love picking them on Memorial Day and strewing them on our people's graves both here and in Provo, remembering the times we used to take coffee cans wrapped in tin foil loaded with peonies and snowball bush blooms and irises to our kin's graves in Wyoming and now suddenly I'm wondering where DID all those coffee cans comes from?
Anyway. Irises. LOVE them.
I've been aware from my extensive reading in the garden catalogs that come to my house (!) that there are now repeat bloomers--irises that bloom in the spring AND the fall--and I did think unto myself I should try one of those out.
I've now seen them with my own eyes--in a bed here in the Aves and in a bed along 7th East down by Trolley Square. They're huge and every bit as gorgeous as the iris that bloom in the spring. My verdict? They feel wrong to me.
Maybe I love something BECAUSE it's seasonal--fleeting, transient.
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