Changing of the Seasons

The bees are sleeping late,
    curled up in the dahlia blossoms.
The blue jays are acting out scenes from West Side Story.
The frogs in the pond are silent now,
    except at dusk when they ask to be tossed a few jumping worms.
The hummingbird has taken flight after weeks of checking with us to see if it was time to go.
It's 9am and there are no sounds from the garden
    but the dripping of morning dew on the leathery leaves. 

I have started the process of reorganizing the iris beds. When I started this crazy thing three years ago, we were just going to grow Siberian irises. The thinking was that the lowest part of the yard (that floods) would be great for them since they want an abundance of water. Turns out that line of thinking is flawed. (insert embarrassed laughter here). It floods during the winter and develops an ice sheet. That isnt what Siberian irises want during the winter. Lost quite a few Iris sanguinea to this flawed thinking. After seeing multiple gardens in Michigan this August, and after having discussed this issue during the Siberian Iris Convention in Iowa... I have come to the realization that free-draining soil is NOT something we have. And that our winter conditions are nothing like the natural conditions in Eurasia, where the Siberian irises grow natively. 

Time for a rethinking of the iris beds. 

Leto and I started out looking at the slope (which is strangely more pronounced now that we've built beds out of wood chips further up slope.)  The fall off was about a foot from the highest spot to the lowest depression. Because we started from lawn that we knew would hold standing water sometimes into June, when I originally built the first beds, I laid down woodchips and cardboard and used compost for the rows of irises. Simple. But what I didn't take into account was how everything would sink under the weight of all that water. 

The other conundrum has been disorganization. What began as simply Siberian irises now includes multiple other iris species: I. laevigata, I. versicolor, I. sanguinea, I. pseudata, I. ensata, as well as Louisiana irises and many wide-cross cultivars. Each of them has slightly different watering needs. Some of them can literally swim in water. The Iris robusta (versicolor X virginica hybrids) have been moved to the pond. Most of the Iris laevigata are now in the pond, too. As Leto and I have been lifting plants and moving them up or down slope, we've noticed some very interesting behaviors. Nothing that would be remarkable to most folks, but informative in terms of coming to better understand the way species differentiate. 

All of this is happening at the same time that I am getting new plants (from my Michigan trip) into the ground. I have an order of Louisiana irises awaiting delivery... and those need homes too. Lots of plants need lots of room. Seems like an obvious thing. I would imagine that most gardeners fail to leave enough room around plants. Or maybe that's just me. One of those "my eyes are bigger than my garden patch" sort of things. 

As a result of lifting dozens of plants, I am finding that some have proliferated profusely, almost profanely in some instances. Pseudatas are absurdly robust plants! I love them. They seem to shrug off stuff that would crush any other plant. I'll try to write a longer post about my love affair with pseudatas (maybe over the winter).  I have also discovered that Iris versicolor is very happy in our wet garden. Since it is native to the area, and in most places around us, almost extirpated... I figure it is my duty to release Iris versicolor seeds into our ditch in hopes that they find their way downstream to repopulate wet, marshy spots between us and the lake. Miss Rumphius for wetland irises.

Iris versicolor OP

One thing I have learned this year is that most people's ideas about irises are formed by having seen or grown bearded irises. The growing requirements for bearded irises are exactly the opposite of what we have. They want it mostly dry, nothing touching the plant, lots of air, and tons of sun. As a result, most people growing irises don't grow beard-less irises like we do. My hope is to spread the gospel of irises that like or even love water... irises that can blend into the landscape after blooming with lovely cascading grass-like leaves. 

I was asked by a regional iris group if I gave talks. It hadn't occurred to me to give talks. I dont know much yet. As time has passed, I've thought about the question more, and realized that I could talk about what I have come to love and why. Share some of that love through a presentation... yeah, sure. I could do that. Something else to start working on this winter when the snow covers everything outside.