visiting the iris farm
Another spring, another trip to see the irises. We love visiting the Black Iris Farm just a bit outside of Traverse City. We’re greeted with countless rows of vibrant colors, which is quite the spectrum spectacle for a color lover. The bearded iris flowers are always in bloom around Wren’s birthday and I hope I’ll always remember going there to get flowers for her first birthday party. And again last year when I remember it perking Wren up after a rough morning when she was entering her charming “tasmanian devil” stage…
We visited this year once during the day and then we begged Chris to take his girls there another evening when the shadows would be long and the sun full of gold. Do you ever go back somewhere with the light in mind? I learned that from my Dad.
Here is a great example of the light difference in these two untouched photos. The one above taken in mid-morning with harsh, almost directly overhead, cool light. And the next one taken in mid-evening, with the sun lower in the sky and full of warmth.
My Dad also taught me to “choose happiness.” I am reminded of this perspective on life every day when I see Wren’s free, creative spirit in action.
I’m not sure how this post turned into things I learned from my parents, but seeing this sign for one of the varieties of iris makes me think of my Mom and our mutual love of words. I’m pretty sure I got this from her.
Although I don’t see my parents very often because we don’t live close to each other, I think of them every day. I wonder what my kids will learn from me? This has been on my mind a lot lately as Wren is now of the age where she can form lifelong memories of events, or so “they” say. Will she remember visiting the iris farm? Or will the photos create the illusion of a “memory” for her? Or will she just remember being nagged to keep her shoes on instead of remembering the pure joy of running through the sandy fields, bare toes and all? Please, dear child, remember the joy.