I had my doubts about those rhizomes I planted last fall. It wasn't them, they looked healthy enough with their fleshy segmented bodies and little green crew cuts. It was me, the novice flower gardener. I had just learned what they were called and here they were trusting me with their lives. Yet, miracle of miracles, seven months later, my reblooming iris are indeed blooming!         
        Like an expectant child looking under the Christmas tree, I visit them each morning. I check on them when it hasn't rained, after it has rained, when the wind's blowing, when the air is still, on my way to the mailbox, on my way back from the mailbox, when I take out the garbage and when I'm walking Clyde.
        Sometimes, I don't need an excuse and I just go and sit with them. Always, they have something new to tell me.
        I've taken well over two hundred photos and have posted a few I thought worthy of sharing.
        The inspiration is growing to paint them. I have not had the desire to paint flowers before. But, since these are my own, and we've gotten to know each other. Well, they seem more special. Enjoy the journey!

"Iris I"

"Iris 2"

"Iris 3"

"Iris 4"

"Iris 5"

"Iris 6"

"Iris 7"