In spite of late snows, relentless rain, and cool temps, my garden in June is a reward to be depended upon like a fairy tale’s happy ending. Spring has seemed so late to arrive the last couple of years, and yet checking past entries in my garden journal proves that everything seems to bloom within several days of the same date each year. Nature appears to have a schedule that won’t be denied.

The colors of azaleas, rhododendrons, phlox, and poppies can make one a bit giddy after so many months of deep greens, grays, and brown. But it won’t surprise anyone who knows me that my favorite landmarks for breaking the color fast of Mud Season are the lilacs, lupines, and irises. What could be better than to see a landscape filled with all shades of purple?

For sketching purposes, one couldn’t ask for more than an iris provides: each bloom presents a rainbow of colors, fantastical shapes, varied textures, and intriguing patterns. And how great it is to be able to look to the garden rather than just my kitchen counters for a suitable subject.

 

In the 1980s I visited Van Gogh’s striking “Irises” many times at the Joan Whitney Payson Gallery of Art in Westbrook, Maine. Ownership is too strong a word, but I think many Mainers would say they also felt a particular sense of personal attachment to the piece, considering its easy accessibility in such an intimate setting. It was heartbreaking to learn it was going to be lost to the collection in 1987 for financial reasons. It’s now part of the J. Paul Getty Museum collection in Los Angeles – which seems so very far away.

On a happier note, I always loved William Carlos Williams’ poem “Iris”, from his Pictures from Brueghel collection. He caught the essence of the bloom’s exuberance so well.

Iris

A burst of iris so that
come down for
breakfast

We searched through the
rooms for
that

sweetest odor and at
first could not
find its

source then a blue as
of the sea
struck

startling us from among
those trumpeting
petals