July 2008

It’s been said Iris’ are the poor mans orchids. Mmmm. . . let me see . . . I don’t live in a steamy southern part of the country and don’t have exotic wildlife running around, so I guess I definitely don’t have orchids. I do have hundreds and hundreds of glorious Iris. Wow!

This part of WA has ideal temperatures for bulbs of all kinds and this year they put on a spectacular show. I kid you not, the spikes on the “poor man’s orchids” are as almost as tall as me. Certainly they are four feet high.

Three years ago a friend, who is in her eighties, decided she was no longer able to keep up with her Iris garden. She had over an acre of them and most of the stock was at least fifty years in the making. Lillian suggested I make a focal part of my garden with these gorgeous flowers. Soooo, late summer three years ago, I randomly dug up hundreds of her Iris bulbs.

Mind you Lillian was not into neat organized rows of flowers nor categorizing and labeling them. Not at all. Hers was a start close to the back door, and work outward plan. I think she would have gone on forever, expanding her flags of delicate pastel colors.

Plotting a story line is sometimes like starting close to the back door, taking a few steps, writing a few paragraphs, reading the scene aloud, taking another few steps, another verb here, or a better adjective there. It begins to look okay. Soon the writer has moved away from the comfort and safety of the back porch and has truly begun the adventure. There is an organic process taking place and no way of knowing what will take form. This is what a writing adventure is all about!