One of the upsides of the work from home status has been the ability to step outside, into my garden, any time I want. Usually I work in a windowless office that requires a long hallway walk and two sets of heavy double doors to get to any sunlight, and while our university campus is beautiful, it's just not the same as having ready access to the little corner of the outdoor world you call your own.
This year, the iris are spectacular, and within 20 paces of petting distance from my desk chair. Do you pet flowers? I do. Iris are particularly nice for flower petting, because you have that marvelous contrast between the fuzzy bits (so soft), and the smooth ruffles of the petals (so silky).
My iris bed was enlarged last fall, when I lifted an entire bed of daylilies in our perennial bed, and bumped them to the front, near the sidewalk. It seemed like a better place for the daylilies, where the clumps will eventually crowd out weeds, and the flowers are on stalks light and airy enough to see through. That left more room for iris in the space left behind, in the spot where the garden is pretty high and dry, a situation that iris corms prefer.
Sometimes the garden goddess will let you know that you made the right decision by rewarding you with lots of blooms the first year you rehabilitate a part of your garden, and that was certainly true this May with iris. How gorgeous is this?
I'd had several varieties already in my iris bed, but also ordered some more. My two favorite sources for iris are a local one here in Iowa, Rainbow Iris Farms, and Schreiner's (note: this isn't a paid endorsement or sponsored post, just two plant suppliers I like and trust.) I wish I could say I had a sophisticated color scheme or plan for iris, but no. I have all the restraint of a two year old with a box of crayons, and I tend to order what appeals to me and chuck them in the bed any which way.
At the same time, I also received some iris from my dad, and from my dad's girlfriend. These are doing great as well, but may need an extra season or two to reach their full potential. I think they had a degree of transplant shock moving from their Ozark gardens with thin, rocky soil to their Iowa garden, with a much colder winter and clay/loam soil. I love the significance and depth and sentiment a garden has when it's made up of plants from the gardens of people you care about. It's a living album, with plants that evoke stories and memories instead of photos.
Even though I understand the merit of native plantings and prairie habitats for my state, I have this unapologetic fancy for the flowers that were at home in our grandmothers' gardens. I long for the ruffly, showy, pastel blooms of peony, gladiolus, dahlias, and iris, the queen of the grandma garden court. Iris blooms are just so "extra" as my stepdaughters say, that I find them hard to resist. A flock of them reminds me of ballet dancers, Van Gogh paintings, and silk lampshades.
Iris also remind me, just to keep this post weird, of the Platters song from 1958, "Twilight Time." I don't know why. Maybe all those lavenders, blues, and mauves evoke twilight? Not sure. (Also as an aside, Twilight Time also features in one of my favorite episodes of the X-files, "Kill Switch," which may give you a troubling amount of insight to the way my brain free-associates random stuff. You're welcome.)
The iris bed rehab was just one of the ways my front perennial bed has been switched up this year. I'm more fond of the close-up photos (because subtle color changes and raindrops), but I will try to document the garden more as a whole. It is a patchwork of new problems and long term success this season, and well worth the work it takes to turn the former into the latter.
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