Who would deduce the dragonfly from the larva, the iris from the bud, the lawyer from the infant? …We are all shape-shifters and magical reinventors. Life is really a plural noun, a caravan of selves. — Diane Ackerman, in An Alchemy of Mind
Irises not yet even in bud, but lit through with sun and hope, reinventing themselves.
Wednesday Vignette is brought to us by Flutter & Hum.
So very true, indeed!
When I moved a few years ago, I sent my iris away. Only a few survived, and all the labels were lost. Just today, I was told that the black iris bloomed. I do not know the name of it, but I am pleased that it survived. I am now wondering how many others did the same. There were 14 of them.