Morning has broken. The farm where I live is a watery world. We haven't had this much rain in a long time. So much, in fact, some roads are closed or washed out, even major highways. It simply will not stop raining long enough to dry out. Water stands in the fields. There is no way I could get in my garden to plant veggies which should have been planted a month ago. The strawberries are mush. Did I tell you I dislike rain? Always, I need sunny days. The frogs and water lilies are happy though. Can't believe I made it outside before the lily fully opened.
I have herbs to plant and lots of lavender.
Even my little apple tree that has born its first fruits this spring, is dying from all the rain and wet. I watch it daily as more leaves turn brown.
Well, here is something that might interest you though I should have taken a better shot at a different angle. The iris on the left are from plants more than 100 years old. Merely 12 inches high. The one on the right is nearly 2 feet higher. Hybridization I guess.
The left plants came from an old mountainside homestead. The log cabin has long since rotted away, though the rock foundation remains. I heard to look for flowers blooming around the old home to find where the front of the house had been. This site had previously been in Indian Territory and I wonder where the iris and jonquils might have come from. My guess is that they came in bulbs, across the country in a covered wagon, from the eastern part of the United States; a sweet reminder for immigrants of their homeland.