This first week of June marks the last week of our bearded iris. Their energy, stored in the rhizomes from a baking last summer, gives them the stamina to sprint as soon as spring is warm enough to make them stir. All their growth is vertical as they move towards flowering, their fan shaped foliage backlit in the bright new light and fattening where they show promise of flower.
As April spills into the month of May, the leaf sheaths part to allow the ascent of the flowering stems which draw us out daily to check for first colour as the upward-facing buds begin to swell. Wrapped in tissue paper tunics to reveal just a glimpse of what is to come, they teeter long enough to build the anticipation. A theatrical pause before their unravelling and scene-stealing opulence.
The first flowers herald early summer. In this same moment the crabapples replace the pears and, in the course of a week, the buttercups, hawkbit and cat’s ear rise up to gild the meadows. All growth ascending. Except the iris, which have now reached their full height and begun their cascade of flower, the falls unfolding to expose the tufted beard and cupped standards. We grow them in a still place to prevent spring winds tearing at them, but they are rarely still even here, the petals always fluttering.
The greater majority of those we grow were raised by Cedric Morris, the painter and impeccable plantsman. You can feel what he might have been like as man in his selections. Some are mutable, hardly one colour before they move into another and overlain with an intricacy of stronger veining. Others are definite, deeply saturated and luminous against their partners. this year they were foregrounded at The Chelsea Flower Show in Sarah Price’s beautiful garden inspired by Benton End, Morris’ Suffolk home and the site of his iris trials. Benton End has recently been taken on by The Garden Museum and looks set once again to become a place of note and learning.
The bearded iris we grow that were not bred by Morris are as good as his selections and we wonder if he knew of them too. Never too heavy or ruffled and able to bridge the delicate moment that is spring to summer. On the mantlepiece today we have picked the last of these four week wonders so you can share in this celebration before they leave the stage for another year.
From left to right above
Words: Dan Pearson | Photographs: Huw Morgan
Published 3 June 2023
