Irises and Hope.

By R.M. Hamilton

We’ve got a lot of Irises planted in our garden. The first ones out are our Iris Japonica, otherwise known as The Butterfly Flower. They’re small but pretty and I like them a lot. Mum is less impressed.

I found a rather charming story about these flowers being planted around Japanese castles to slow invaders from climbing the hill, due to their slippery leaves. I don’t know if that’s true or not (I couldn’t find a good reference), but it’s an appealing idea.

The name ‘Iris’ comes from the Greek word for rainbow. There was also a minor Ghastly Greek goddess by the name of Iris. She doesn’t seem to have done a lot, and I don’t say that with scorn.  Activity in the Ghastlies is always a negative trait. I should know. Women just lost the right to vote in my last volume of Greek Myths, and I’m still mad about it.

The Victorians believed that Irises represented faith, courage, valour, hope and wisdom. That makes them a rather nice gift for someone going through a tough time.

Vincent Van Gogh loved painting irises.

In fact, Vincent Van Gogh painted this famous picture of Irises while he was staying at the Saint Paul-de-Mausole asylum in Saint-Rémy-de-Provence. He died the next year.

I think it’s rather beautiful that one of his last pictures depicted a flower that represents courage and hope.

I will admit, as far as Irises go, these are a bit on the teeny side. I’m looking forward to the big ones popping out. All the same, these are still very pretty. I arranged them with a few early sprigs of Lady Bank’s Rose, in a jam jar. The soft yellow and pale purple looks wonderful together. It is also possible that I wore the wrong shoes out into the garden, but I have a tendency to lose my head, when the spring blossoms pop out.

Toodle-pip,

Love, Ruthie.