One man and Ms. Iris.

As you can see this one man is really being helpful. Cleaning up the pollen dropping off the big trees in the back yard. Although the weather is quite warm, he's got to wear long sleeves to keep from cutting himself and tearing his skin. Bless his heart.And while he is doing all the cleaning, I got the hedge trimmer out and trimmed the hedge. I found the pruners and started in on some limbs and the wisteria gone wild. I spotted Ms. Iris. Neither she nor any one of her lovely friends chose to visit last year. Maybe the trick is all the water we had this year? I'll have to do a bit more study on this. Nonetheless, here is Ms. Iris in full bloom. Two more buds on the same stem. This is going to be lovely. And the best part - she brought along 4 friends who are still in the bud stage!

Isn't she a beauty? I love the very pale tinge of lavender in the petals that contrasts so beautifully with the yellow beard and the lime colored stripes.
Truly a magnificent specimen. Guess what?? Man met Ms. Iris. Man was being very careful. Ms. Iris however, had met her match. Down she went. One minute she was standing there in all her glory and the next, she flopped over and the blood was rushing to her lovely standards. Man's wife to the rescue.
So now Miss Iris resides inside in a beautiful handcrafted pottery vase made especially for such occasions. The pottery vase is handmade and created in the Japanese style of flower arranging. Three openings in the center into which to place stems. Each hole has an opening through which the water flows and thus nourishes the blooms. Ms. Iris is pleased, her petals are opening more, rewarding me with more of her intrinsic beauty.

Poem of Iris

Why are people bewildered to be open and show themselves?
What are they afraid of? What are they resisting for?
See me and feel the power of my self concentration.
I am a rainbow. I am a shooting star.
I bring divinity to the earth. I know the joy of opening
myself, learning self mastery on the Earth and devoting
myself to the last drops of my life.
Mitsuyo Matsumoto