Schreiner's Iris Gardens: A Spring Tradition

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

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