The other day I noticed that our small bed of irises has started to bloom. We have noticed the buds for a week or so and I was excited to see they had bloomed at last in all their sunny yellow glory. They are a bright spot in our backyard among all the green. I look out my kitchen window and see them dancing against the old wood fence; and then to the right some tiny hot pink flowers, just under the bird bath where the crows hop and peck. And behind that a short row of Rose of Sharon Double Purple along the side fence by the shed.
Whenever I see irises I think about Mike. I think he would be able to tell me what breed they are and probably a few random, little-known iris facts. I smile and think of his annual Iris Crawl and remember the picture of him literally crawling on the ground by his huge bed of irises along the fence by the road, laughing. He can't tell me about my irises now and he won't be hosting another Iris Crawl. But I like that they remind me of him.
