By Thomas James Martin
Published - Suite101 - June 8, 2003
Family rituals offer so much anticipation and togetherness for my wife Joyce and me. For example, every year we look forward to the opening of the Farmer's Market in the small city of Beaverton, Oregon where we live.
We also look forward to driving through the Columbia River Gorge in the Fall to gaze at the changing colors of the forests and look upon the mist-shrouded mountains and perhaps stop along the way to purchase fruit or nuts—especially Oregon apples and filberts.
However, I believe that our annual spring visit to Schreiner's Iris Gardens may be the most anticipated of our annual rites. In northern Oregon Iris bloom each year on the cusp of late, spring and early summer, during May and early June.
Recently on a balmy Sunday in late May, Joyce, and I drove the thirty miles or so to Schreiner's, the largest retail grower of Iris in the United States and one of the largest in the world. It is located near Salem off Interstate 5 (Precise directions are at the end of the article in the editor's notes.)
Ostensibly, our journey from the Portland metropolitan area to the Gardens is to buy a dozen or two Iris cuttings and perhaps a few of Schreiner's renowned bulbs at bargain prices. While we plant a few new bulbs every year, what we really enjoy is filling the house with the beauty and astonishing scent of the cut flowers that we purchase from Schreiner's.
Every spring we return from the iris farm with enough cuttings to fill every vase and jar that we own with the intricate though delicate blooms shaded in amazingly variegated hues, from the deepest black to fairest white, blazing red to pale blue. I sometimes favor radiant yellow varieties while Joyce loves the velvety purple ones.
We are not the only ones to make a pilgrimage to Schreiner's today; cars and trucks fill the parking lot. Looking at the license plates, I notice vehicles not only from Oregon but also from Washington, Idaho, California, and even a plate from British Columbia.
The gardens hold hundreds of varieties of Iris (over 500 this year). The gardens are so romantic this spring afternoon. I recall that in Greek mythology, Iris was the messenger of the god of love. In fact, a Greek man would sometimes plant an iris on the grave of his beloved as a tribute to the goddess Iris, whose duty it was to take the souls of women to the heaven (the Elysian Fields).
Holding hands, Joyce and I stroll through the gardens filled not only with Iris, but also with other flowers, such as poppies and pansies bordering the Iris, and tall lupine. We breathe deeply the fragrance of thousands of Iris in bloom, growing on hundreds of cultivated acres in the fertile Willamette Valley. Ten acres of gardens are open to the public.
A small sign near each group of flowers tells us the name of a variety. The names of the Iris are delightful and sound magically on the tongue: Gypsy Romance, New Moon, Merlot, Dark Passion, Indigo Princess, and my personal favorite, the light blue Pacific Mist.
We see couples and families eating at shaded picnic tables, and Joyce mentions that next year we should bring a picnic basket. Eventually we wind up in their garden shop looking for unusual gardening items and studying cards and pictures imprinted with the many varieties of irises, many of which have been developed at Schreiner's or by growers associated with the nursery..
I leave Joyce in the shop and wander outside where I look over the extensive fields where the family and workers of Schreiner's grow the flowers. I am struck by the layering of the fields with all the blue ones in one area; all the yellow in another; still another band filled with a "coppery" golden color. I feel as if I am in the Low Countries of Europe, in the Netherlands where I once visited and enjoyed seeing bulbs in flower for as far as the could see.
I take a close look at a purple specimen at my feet; idly I wish I knew the variety. I cannot help but reflect that irises are not a simple, straightforward design. The flowers are more complex than a daisy or a tulip; they are intricate and curvilinear with uplifted petals and downward sweeping sepals.
They remind me of Victorian times. In a sudden reverie I see an anteroom in a charming manse (with dormers and arches of course) where the first thing you see as you enter the house is a small wooden table in the middle of which on a white, crocheted doily is a golden vase holding an enormous bouquet of the elaborate multi-colored blooms.
I feel someone take my arm, and realize it is Joyce. She shows me her treasures: Some cards with finely drawn prints of different varieties of Iris and a small watering can. We put our purchases in the car and walk over to the area of the farm where the cut flowers are for sale.
Picking our flowers is always a wonderful exercise in marital cooperation, as we take pains to allow each other to select personal favorites. Joyce picks them out and then hands them to me where I hold the rapidly growing bunch first in my hands, and then as the bulk becomes too much, I cradle them against my shoulder.
As we walk to the car, the afternoon sun goes behind the clouds, and we are suddenly bathed in a light shower that stops even as we reach our car. As we pull out of the parking lot, I see a rainbow, one of those magnificent ones that run across the sky from horizon to horizon and in which you can easily make out all seven spectral colors.
Something flashes through my mind as I gaze up at the rainbow, and suddenly I am glad that I did suffer through that rather pedantic class in Greek Mythology in college. I remember that in addition to being the Messenger of the God of Love, Iris is also the Goddess of the Rainbow.
Ah! Now I see why the profusely colored flower is so named: Truly the Iris is the Rainbow Goddess of the Earth.
Editor's Notes: Thousands of people from the Portland Metro area and the Pacific Northwest as well as from all over the United States and the world flock to Schreiner's Iris Gardens each year, and the Nursery ships bulbs all over the world. Many growers associated with Schreiner's have won awards for new varieties developed.
The display gardens are open to the public from dawn until dusk, seven days a week during the time of blooming. The garden gift shop and cut flower show are open from 9 a.m. until 6 p.m. during that time.
While a complete catalogue of their bulb inventory is available from their store or online, here is a link to a free Mini-Catalog.
Each May, Schreiner's Gardens hosts a few events. For example, on Mother's Day each mom gets a free Iris stem. Check out the Schreiner's Website for more information on the Keizer Iris Festival and other festivities.
Some readers have commented that the bearded iris has no scent. It is true that some varieties have had the scent "hybridized out." However, many other varieties are bred to retain the natural fragrance of the Iris.
The farm and gardens are located 32 miles south of Portland and 5 miles north of downtown Salem. Schreiner's is located at 3625 Quinaby Road NE in Salem, Oregon.
From Portland, take I-5 south to the Brooks exit 263. Go west on Brooklake Road, turn left on River Road for 1 mile, then turn left on Quinaby Road.
From Salem, and points South, take I-5 north to the Chemawa exit 260. Go west on Chemawa Road, turn right just west of I-5 following signs to Volcano Stadium. Continue heading north past stadium and turn right on Quinaby.
Copyright 2003, Thomas James Martin, all rights reserved.
No comments:
Post a Comment