Whenever I hear someone (or myself) describing a person as a 'delicate little flower', it always makes me smile because more often than not it's a phrase that's used ironically. And these species irises (iris reticulata 'Cantab') bear this out. They look very much like delicate little flowers, yet they are remarkably undelicate in constitution, and flower outside in horribly cold conditions that would deter all but the hardiest plants.
Ironically, it's when you force them and bring them indoors, that they turn into delicate little flowers. They are sensitive to the high temperatures so they burst open, quickly lose all their energy, and go over in two or three days.
In comparison to these small, sturdy irises, I feel very delicate, like a large hothouse plant that can't bear draughts and icy winds and freezing mornings. But I like bringing them indoors because, as a very nesh* northener, I know that it's the only way I'll be able to contemplate their shapes, colours, and markings for any length of time.
*nesh: northern term of mild abuse when growing up if you didn't want to go outside when it was brass monkey weather.
[Bulbs from Peter Nyssen, planted in bowls in multi-purpose compost in mid-November, kept in a cold, dark garage, brought into the warmth about a week ago.]
