twenty irises, one garden: old roots meet new blooms
When I walk through my backyard each spring, I’m swept back to my grandmother’s garden—her irises, standing proud in a rainbow of purples and golds, were the heart of our family’s May traditions. Now, my own patch boasts twenty varieties, some passed down through generations, others modern hybrids bred for boldness and resilience.
But here’s the rub: my neighbors, mostly newcomers, favor sleek lawns and minimalist beds. They see my riot of color as old-fashioned, even unruly. We trade glances over the fence—me, defending my heritage blooms; them, advocating for tidy, HOA-approved landscapes. Sometimes, I wonder if we’re losing touch with the wild beauty that once defined our region. After all, irises thrive in our unpredictable North American springs, weathering late frosts and sudden heatwaves better than most imports.
Is it nostalgia to keep these flowers, or quiet rebellion against the pressure to conform? When a late frost nipped my newest variety last year, I mourned the loss, but also felt a stubborn pride. My garden is a living memory, a patchwork of past and present.
Do you cling to the old ways, or embrace the new? Is a garden for beauty, for history, or for fitting in? I’d love to hear your stories—and your battles with neighbors, family, or even the weather itself.
#irisgarden #familytradition #gardeningdebate #Gardening
