How much longer must I wait? That question has become a familiar refrain for most of us as our days of isolation and quarantine drag on endlessly. Sometimes it seems like time is standing still, yet there are hopeful signs that things are slowly improving.
I visit the garden of my neighbor, fellow photographer Cindy Dyer, almost every day, checking to see what has changed. Over the last month I have observed the growth of the leaves and stalks of a new crop of irises. A few of them have flowered and withered, but most of them are still buds, offering only a hint of their beauty that is yet to come.
Here are a few images that I captured on Thursday of iris buds of different shapes and colors, a preview of coming attractions.
© Michael Q. Powell. All rights reserved.
Wonderful images. They look like tiny little babies struggling to get out of their swaddling wraps.
Thanks, Vicki. I like your analogy. In many ways they are like little babies, all curled up in fetal positions, albeit a bit more exposed to the world than the babies. Don’t you just want to hug and to hold them?
These are lovely photos, Mike. So delicate and so intricate. They’re going to be beautiful and yet they already are.
Thanks, Dan. Those are my thoughts as well. I’ve never really tracked the progress of flowers so carefully since I don’t grow my own, but I have noticed that sometimes they seem to go from this stage of budding to full bloom in only a day or two. There are a couple of the yellow ones with frilly edges blooming already, but none of the purple ones yet. As I recall, in some previous years there were upwards of thirty purple irises in a relatively small garden that is on the side of and end-unit townhouse and visible to all passers-by.
They do seem to go from bud to bloom quickly.
Ours are blooming as well.
Blue Rock Horses Frederick County, Virginia bluerockhorses.com
Lovely, Mike. Here in Napa, ours are blooming, too. Seems like people are noticing them more.
Thanks, Bonnie. I think it is because we are all slowing down, which is an unexpected benefit of this isolation/confinement/quarantine.
Nice macro detail shots Mike! I miss our gardens at our old home, so t is nice to see your images!
Thanks, Reed. If I had to depend on my own little townhouse yard for nature photos, I’d be hurting. I have a crabapple tree, a few hostas, and some astilbes, which are are not flowering yet. That’s about it.
If the trailer is this good, I can’t wait to see the movie.
I will let you know when the movie is ready for public release. 🙂
Lovely photos, Mike. I really like the capture of colours and textures in #2 and #3 and I love the soft hues and the composition of the first image.
Ah, promises, promises! We had irises in Omaha and there are lots of Blue Flags in the wetland near the cabin. I’m missing them and you’re helping!
Nice!
Elegant, Mike! I like Iris I this stage almost as much as the full bloom.
Oh how dearly I remember the multitude of Iris that were part of the many flower gardens on my Gram’s Pennsylvania farm. So many varieties that I no longer recall all of them; though Dutch Iris, Japanese Iris and Bearded Iris stand out in my mind. Some fragrant and others not, but all elegant and beautiful. It was Gram that told my siblings and I that Iris is the Greek word for rainbow and the name of the Greek goddess of the rainbow too. Gram’s wealth of knowledge about flowers and many other things was endless and she loved to share it. These wondrous photos of Iris on the edge of becoming bursts of colors are a lovely gift that takes me far away from the confines of my home. It is Hug A Friend Day…consider yourself hugged! Thank-you, Mr. Mike!
Thanks for sharing so much about what these flowers mean to you. For me, one of the flowers of the spring that triggers memories is the bright yellow forsythia bush, on of my Mom’s favorites. I had no idea that the Greek god Iris was the personification of the rainbow. Wow! I have been putting a lot of thought into my postings even since this coronavirus crisis. I am consciously trying too find beauty to share, often close to home, and to maintain a positive message. I don’t get to see many of my friends in real life very often these days, which makes my friends that I have made through this blog even more precious to me. We truly are in this all together and I appreciate all your support and encouragement. Thanks for the hug and I am sending one back in your direction.
Great images of promise. Yes we are all so impatient- but nature is something we shouldn’t try to rush..the waiting and anticipation is part of the pleasure…happy to wait for the snowdrops to arrive..and of course the bluebell..and now I’m waiting for my alliums to ‘pop’ 🙂
It’s lovely to see them gently emerging from their ‘wrapping’. So are we in a way. Tonight just before midnight NZ goes from Level 4 lockdown to L3. It’s still pretty restricted but more businesses are allowed to open (not face-to-face but pickup/delivery systems are allowed) and we can go a bit further from home. E.g. our local cafe is offering most of their usual menu on a pre-order basis and you either collect or pay for delivery. It’ll feel slightly more normal 🙂
I’m waiting for my own irises to emerge from their cocoons, a few days behind Cindy’s. Thanks for the reminder that flowers are worth looking at at every stage.
A little more patience, Nina, and I am sure they will burst open. I noted that Cindy has a few more of the tall yellow irises in bloom today, but so far the violet ones are remaining steadfastly closed.