Tonight, when I was walking Birdie, I noticed the irises. There's a large iris bed ringing the front part of the property, filled with the lovely dark purple variety, packed in cheek by jowl. (Or would that be leaf by stem?) Irises are my favorite flowers, so that's probably what really caught my attention. But, after I noticed them, I spent the walk home thinking about the irises and the house.
Who planted them? What happened to the people who owned the house? Was there a time when the house and yard were well loved and cared for? I had a lovely little day dream, imagining someone planting the bulbs, lovingly.
Planting is such a vote for the future. Larry and I were talking about how to establish an asparagus bed today. It's a significant investment in time and a belief in the future. But really, that's true of any planting. Putting seeds, or vegetables, flowers, or trees in the ground is a statement of belief in the future.
I imagine that the planter of the irises had no idea what would happen to his/her house.