It’s been about seven years now since I found my way into photography. My children have gone from littles to middles, and I’ve accumulated, what feels to me, a massive archive of images – both computer files and negatives. I recently had reason to dig deep into that archive, to make sure everything important was where it should be – whew! it was.

What struck me most, as I wandered backwards and forwards through my years were the patterns. I suspect many of us who make pictures regularly have some: the shiny first day faces and the smiling last day faces forcing us to acknowledge unfathomable growth spurts; the holiday tables set year after year, somehow both a constant connection to the past and a reminder of the changes that have taken place in the spaces in between; the summer beaches, butterflies and carnival lights and the twinkling holiday lights and winter storms. I change, and the world around me changes but much of what I photograph through the seasons echoes earlier events and images.

Each year I bring new photographic knowledge and experience and a slightly different version of myself to these familiar subjects when they come around. So even though some subjects are oft-photographed, I see them through a fresh prism and, at least, try to make something different with them each year. As much as I adore novelty and need it for sustained inspiration, it was interesting to realize I am equally able to thrill at the opportunity to reconnect with an object of my eye’s affection that I have to act fast to catch while I can.

I don’t know when I first fell for irises, but I’m pretty sure they were among the first things I planted in our garden, and we’ve been in our house for 16 years now. Each year they get a greater share of our real estate, and I’ve been making pictures of them since before I got serious about photography.

The flower is aptly named for the Greek word for rainbow, sharing its name with the goddess of the rainbow,  because the flowers can come in every color combination imaginable – including near black and purest white. Irises ask for little from an inconstant gardener like me – their rhizome needs to feel the heat of the sun, they tolerate drought, naturalize, and do well with a little supplement in the fall and before bloom time. And bloom time is a riotous marvel.

We had a really cool, gray wet May this year, and as a result the longest iris season ever – from end of April all the way till mid-June. I still have a few flowers yet to open. This extended season has given me time for a whole lot of pictures. I even got out to an iris farm in the country during bloom time this year, long a goal of mine that I couldn’t seem to make happen on our over-scheduled May weekends.

The sky looked pretty ominous as I pulled into the drive, and I was stunned silent by the beauty of the garden in bloom, but I shook it off and had the good sense to make some pictures straight away. Before long it started to pour, and while I didn’t mind getting wet making notes and placing my order for, but of course, more irises, I would have hated to have missed my one opportunity this season to make images which will sustain me through the cold months while I’m waiting to be briefly reunited with my beloved irises.

Is there any seasonal subject to which you find yourself returning? I’d love to know, better still, I’d love to see!

Keep your eyes wide open,
Debbie