In our woodland garden: Irises

“What in your life is calling you, When all the noise is silenced, The meetings adjourned… The lists laid aside, And the Wild Iris blooms By itself In the dark forest… What still pulls on your soul?”  (Rumi)      

Irises: “Like blown glass…”

“…We had the irises, rising beautiful and cool on their tall stalks, like blown glass, like pastel water momentarily frozen in a splash, light blue, light mauve, and the darker ones, velvet and purple, black cat’s ears in the sun, indigo shadow…”  (Margaret Atwood)   Our first iris is still blooming… And now we have…