Growing Irises Out East: Draining Well in the Piedmont

by Heather Haley and Alleah Barnes Haley

Irises growing beside Heather's driveway

Greetings from the Piedmont, a plateau in the eastern United States between the Atlantic Ocean and the Appalachian Mountains. This is our first post for the World of Irises blog. As a mother-daughter team, we joyfully spent many hours at Heather’s kitchen table working on the booklet for the 2019 national convention and are pleased to serve the American Iris Society in a new way. 

Keren, Heather, and Susan with their mother Alleah Haley at a national convention

Aitken’s Salmon Creek Garden, Portland, Oregon 

Members of our family have grown irises from one coast of the United States to the other since the 1940s. Although climate and soil characteristics differ from one location to the next, one piece of advice is timeless and universal: bearded irises prefer full sun and well-drained soil.

As a child in New Mexico, Alleah learned this the hard way. At the age of nine, she was given the area along a shaded driveway where she planted bearded iris rhizomes from her mother Gertie. The irises grew poorly. Alleah’s early experiment taught her a basic principle of iris culture: plant bearded irises in full sun with well-drained soil. Three years later she used a sunny spot and planted gifts from her mother’s iris friends: a new introduction from hybridizer Georgia Hinkle and two advanced seedlings from hybridizer Steve Varner. They grew well!

As an adult in California, Alleah provided optimal growing conditions for irises using raised beds with full sun. Alleah constructed wooden beds over wire to keep gophers from eating her irises, and filled the beds with purchased sandy loam soil. Although the surface of  raised beds is flat, a combination of soil type and elevated planting ensures that irises are well-drained.

Raised beds at Alleah's home in California 

From a young age, Alleah’s youngest daughter Heather enjoyed helping her mother in the garden. For about a decade, mother and daughter bonded while weeding, digging, and replanting mom’s irises. Heather learned a lot about growing irises while she lived on the West Coast. However, moving to the East Coast gave Heather an opportunity to learn an important lesson for herself. Bearded irises grow best when planted in well-drained soil.

Source: National Resources Conservation Service, USDA

As an adult, Heather settled in North Carolina’s Piedmont region and planted irises of her own for the first time. With help from her husband Chris, Heather established iris beds along the driveway of their first home. Although the area was in full sun, the ground was unlike anything the two California natives had seen before. A dominant soil order in many parts of the southeastern United States is Ultisol, and it is especially prevalent in North Carolina’s Piedmont. North Carolina also has heavy rainfall (over 50 inches per year). The combination of climate and soil characteristics required Heather and Chris to acquire some new skills and learn techniques for gardening in “red clay.”  Due to limited finances, Heather chose not to construct raised beds like Alleah’s. She planted her irises directly into the dense, characteristically rust-colored Ultisol. 

Heather's first iris bed - October 2012  

In 2012, Heather began establishing iris beds.  Her first tasks were removing grass and “double-digging” to the best of her ability. As a frugal beginner, Heather spent her vacation using a shovel and brute force to break up the red clay along the driveway. Heather became VERY tired. Next, Chris helped Heather apply and incorporate a 3-inch thick layer of “flower and vegetable garden soil” purchased at a big-box store. This amendment was intended to increase organic matter, improve drainage, and supply irises with a modest amount of nutrients. Heather planted irises as she had in her mother’s garden in California, and Chris applied a thick layer of hardwood mulch to keep the weeds down. Unfortunately, neither strategy was ideal for growing irises in North Carolina. When a heavy clay soil is flat, or covered with mulch, irises struggle because the surrounding soil doesn’t drain well. The next spring, Heather started losing irises to rot. She pulled the mulch about 5 inches back from each of the remaining plants. Thankfully, no other irises were lost but several varieties known to increase well in other gardens didn’t. 

Tall bearded iris 'Broadband' (Tasco, 2002) before pulling back mulch -  April 2013

Replanting iris using sloped beds - October 2014

Clearing the backyard - February 2013

Planting iris on mounds in the backyard - October 2014

After spending much of 2013 preparing Chris’ vegetable beds in the backyard, Heather wanted to try changing the shape of the iris beds along the driveway to improve drainage. Heather dug all of her irises, amended the clay with more “flower and vegetable garden soil,” and adjusted the slope of the bed so that heavy rainfall would drain away from the irises (and the foundation of the house). Also in 2014, Heather tried forming mounds of soil 2 feet in diameter and 4 inches tall in the backyard, planting each with 3 rhizomes of the same variety. This time around, all irises grew and increased well. These early experiments taught Heather her own lessons about growing irises in the Piedmont. In clay with poor drainage, Heather amends her soil generously with organic material. If clay needs better drainage, she recommends planting irises in sloped beds or on mounds about 4 inches high. In locations with heavy rainfall, gardeners should avoid applying mulch in bearded iris beds.

Reblooming iris ‘Peggy Sue’ (Lauer, 2006) planted in a sloped iris bed near a warm brick wall - December 2015

Irises in the sloped bed near driveway in peak bloom - April 2016

In the years that followed, Heather’s iris collection continued to expand and space for Chris to grow his vegetables got harder to come by. In desperation, Chris told Heather “You can grow as many irises as you want if you can make them pay for themselves.” He didn’t expect Heather would actually try doing this, let alone be successful. However, his idea to grow all iris she wanted got stuck in her head. Heather tested distribution methods, and tried potting up increases to see how much care they would require. Heather and Chris also experimented with planting irises like a row crop. They planted irises on ridges of long, narrow mounds. Instead of buying “garden soil” amendments by the bag, truckloads of leaf compost arrived from an independent garden center that made it themselves. Chris experimented with using a flame weeder* between rows instead of mulch. More iris rhizomes were grown successfully, more iris varieties were increasing well, and there were fewer weeds to pull. However, Chris and Heather faced a new problem. Growing additional iris varieties would require more space in full sun.  Although it was tempting, they decided against digging up their front lawn and converting the space to irises, as many have been known to do. They started imagining a yard big enough for fruit trees, greenhouses, irises, AND vegetables.*Note that the propane-fueled flame weeder can be used only on windless days and in wet regions.

Chris incorporating a 3-inch layer of leaf compost - August 2017  

Iris planted on ridges in the driveway - August 2017

 Iris planted on ridges in the backyard - August 2017

An early experiment with potted irises - April 2018

Irises in pots and rows surrounding Chris’ vegetable beds - April 2019

In 2019, Heather enrolled and completed North Carolina Farm School; a business course for small and beginning farmers offered by NC State Extension. A pair of small-scale market tests provided evidence that Heather’s business plan had potential and that preserving her family’s iris collection could pay for itself. Heather and Chris had also come to appreciate their families’ agricultural roots, and they wanted to try preserving an old farmhouse. Halfway through 2019, Heather and Chris purchased a 100-year-old restored farmhouse on 7 acres in rural North Carolina. The former tobacco farm has suitable, well-drained soil and is now home to “Broley Homestead and Iris Farm.” [Broley is a mashup of the couple’s last names, Broberg and Haley.]

Heather with potted irises during a small-scale test - April 2019

The family iris collection spent a year growing and increasing in 3-gallon pots. Meanwhile, Chris and Heather cleared land and established iris production beds. Soil at the farm contains less clay; and now they add leaf compost by the dump truck-load to improve soil texture, increase drainage, and add organic matter. In the summer of 2020, iris beds in the production field were formed using a tractor with a garden bedder attachment. They are about 6 inches tall, 30 inches across, and 150 feet long.  Heather is currently experimenting with pre-emergent herbicides and Chris continues using a flame weeder* between iris rows. 

            Potted Iris at the Broley Homestead - April 2020

Tractor Max with garden bedder attachment - August 2020

Tractor Max helping apply leaf compost to production beds. - August 2020

Chris watering recently planted irises in raised production beds - September 2020 

Also in 2020, Alleah sold her home in California and relocated to North Carolina. She now lives about 20 minutes from Heather and Chris’ farm. Most of the varieties from Alleah’s collection are now growing on the farm, and she goes there frequently to lend a hand. With strategic purchases and donations from iris friends, the family collection now numbers about 700 varieties. Although forming iris beds on a production scale has required new techniques and equipment, the principles we learned early on remain equally useful today: Bearded irises grow best in full sun with well-drained soil.

For Comments:

What advice do you have for others growing iris and how did you learn it?

What iris topics would you like to read about in a future post?

Have Rainboots, Will Garden

By Vanessa Spady

Although we have endured several years of drought here in central California, everything turns green when the rains of  El Niño arrive. We recently got some steady showers (hooray!), which means a switch from monitoring to make sure things aren't too dry to ensuring things aren’t too wet. It’s a nice change, and I’m glad it's my biggest concern in the garden right now. There’s still a lot to do out in our gardens, even though it’s raining and not quite Spring.

Several days of steady, fairly heavy rain means that our creeks all have water and my rain gear stays by the door.  I don’t make a practice of gardening in a downpour, but I will confess I can't stay inside while it's merely soggy and inclement. And with the heavier rain, I did need to spend a bit of time keeping an eye on the drainage in the kiddie pool beds. For the first six or seven storms, they drained beautifully, and the rhizomes were in nice, firm condition. This last deluge, however, exceeded the capacity of the holes drilled in the bottoms of the pools. The result was standing water in several of the pools, even four hours after the rain had stopped. That was a surprise, since they’d done so well up until that point. Here’s what I saw:

A pool full of ‘Ensign’ and about a centimeter of standing water. Not good!

So, on with my Wellingtons, and my barn jacket, and my trusted rubber gloves. I chose the largest drill bit in my collection, mucked to the bottom of the pool in several low spots, and drilled two holes in each pool that had standing water. Presto, problem solved. I have been watching closely each time it rains, and so far, that has done the trick. The rhizomes have stayed nice and firm, and all but one now has lots of new growth... whew.

Extra caution is needed when the ground is this wet, since, as I’ve mentioned before, our soil can turn to pudding very quickly. So as I make my rounds, I tread carefully, and thanks to my Wellies, I can cover most of the sloped terrain without trouble. I definitely do not recommend kicking a ball for your dogs while in your rainboots on a wet slope. Yes, I slid and fell. The ground was so delightfully soft (and so was I) that I wasn’t injured. I was wet and muddy, and the dogs had no sympathy, so I sulked for a few moments and then got over myself. Note to self: Galoshes don’t offer much traction. Sigh.

Green slopes, mud puddles, and dogs chasing their tennis ball. Doesn’t look hazardous, right? Ha!

The early bloomers are starting to open, one by one, and the beds are all starting to be full of nice tall, green growth. Spring is certainly right around the corner, and as we enter the Best Part of the Year (in my humble, iris-loving opinion), I expect to be outside in the garden anytime it’s not dark or I’m not at work. Hundreds of hours have gone into our test garden, and we’re about to see if our unconventional methods will pay off. Finger crossed, eyes peeled, and camera at the ready!

I'll leave you with one of my early bloomers, from a raised bed. Can’t wait for the rest to put on their big show!

'Thick And Creamy' (John Weiler, R. 1977). Sdlg. 73-50A-1. TB, 36" (91 cm). Extra early to midseason bloom. Ruffled white, blended primrose yellow (HCC 601/3) with slightly darker hafts; light primrose yellow beard. 'Wedding Vow' X 7-OB: ('White King' x 'New Moon'). Rialto Gardens 1978.

There’s A Time-Warp in My Garden

By Vanessa Spady

My blog updates and my actual gardening progress are a bit out of step, so this post is about the fun we had planting our first set of rhizomes way back in October. I encourage you to read it, even though, since this part of the process was both fun to do and funny to read about.

Although I work, and have six dogs, eleven sheep and an orange cat (orange cat owners know what that means) I somehow manage to spend the bulk of my time gardening. I do this by choice, and on days like the day I am about to tell you all about, I garden instead of all the things I should be doing. (Note: if anyone can tell me the four-letter word equivalent for “should” I’ll use that instead.)

I have two forms of proof that I spent the bulk of that weekend in the garden. First, the inside of my house could convince you that border collies have opposable thumbs, and second, I was finally making visible progress on our iris project. While I dream of coming home to a beautifully clean home and a delicious, fresh-cooked meal, it turns out—to my surprise—that I don’t have a wife. Normally, my utterly darling husband steps up and makes a huge dent in the household chores, but he was out of town that weekend, and so I came home to the mess I’d made the day before, after a long day in the garden... (Honey, did I mention how much I appreciate you? Consider this a second reminder that you’re the best.)

So, now it’s 9:30 at night, I’m eating from-the-freezer stir-fry, and having just unloaded and re-loaded the dishwasher, I can now sit down and gush and crow and preen over my garden photos (none of which show the true measure of the accomplishment I feel!). I’m that delightful combination of excited and bushed, which is a nice way to wrap up the weekend. And I get to share my progress photos with you, which makes it much more fun. But first, of course, I have to tell you what got done!

From previous posts, know you that I’d cleared an area of the yard with a gentle slope for our great planting endeavor. I also procured (donated!) kiddie pools, tires, and pallets. Drip irrigation materials are on hand, and the rhizomes have all arrived (bought online, and from the San Fernando Valley Iris Society, who are just the loveliest people around). Six yards of very nice loamy, amended soil was delivered. So, no more obstacles, right?

P.S. Whomever came up with the expression “dirt cheap” has never had a dump-truck load of it delivered to their house.

“Hooray!” I exclaimed. “I can start planting now!”

But, that was premature. Because, you know, I’m not just going to stick them in the beds willy-nilly. There has to be a plan! A grand scheme! An over-arching concept! Right? I mean, I’m starting from bare dirt in about an acre of land. This is my big chance to design something amazing, and brilliant. Something that will end up in high-end gardening magazines, and be the first result when you search “gorgeous iris garden” and also be the ideal for all future iris lovers across the globe. I can’t just stick them in a kiddie pool and call it genius! There must be A Plan!

This, friends, is where the magic of gardening begins to ebb away, and the practical realities of being a Type-A overachiever with tendencies towards the grandiose starts to inhibit the actual gardening part of having a garden. I kid you not, there are probably a dozen steps between the dirt arriving, and the first iris rhizome getting planted in that dirt. I’ve had a few sips of wine, so it’s starting to be amusing to me...feel free to laugh along with me.

The good news (for me) is that in addition to being Type-A, I’m also very practical. I realized that I was not quite ready to design the most stunning garden of all time, and that just having a successful growing season was an excellent goal for this first planting year. Sufficiently self-chastened, I took some (more) advice from my sister, and created a visual catalog of all the iris I ordered, as well as all the named iris I already own. It turns out to be approximately 95 named iris. (The hundreds and hundreds of iris with missing names have earned their own post, so we’ll talk about those another time.) Luckily for me, I used to be an art director and graphic designer, and I very quickly assembled an excellent and clever (if I do say so myself) method of creating my very own iris catalog. Arrange-as-you-like printed envelopes:

This way, I can lay them out to create optimal color combinations without dragging my computer around the garden. Or worse, relying on my memory...

Any tags that come with the rhizome go into the envelope. I feel so clever. 
Of course, my goals for the garden are different from most commercial growers’ goals and requirements. I could have just planted them alphabetically! Or by type (“Tall beardeds on the left, folks, and intermediates on the right...”), but I created a slightly more challenging rubric of by-season and by complimentary-color combination. Which is to say, all the early bloomers are together, and then arranged in color combinations that enhance and support the beauty and uniqueness of each variety. Then the mid-season bloomers are together, and the late bloomers are together, etc, all arranged by a totally subjective and probably not-entirely-perfect color-enhancement and combination that, now that I’m typing it, sounds almost silly.

But, truly, a lot of thought went into which iris should be planted near which other iris. In my personal yard, I have what I call my yellow garden. I have combined many of my favorite yellow and yellow-ish plants in one area, and they all bloom their own variety of yellows, creating a really lovely and inviting spectacle. But I noticed when iris-shopping that often all the white iris (for example) look indistinguishable when they are planted together. There are subtle differences, of course, but the eye wearies of all white, or all blue, or all deep purple. And creating contrasts, and appealing color combinations really boosts the value of some of the more average or mundane blooms. A yellow bloom loses it’s zing next to a similar yellow bloom. But either of them in contrast with a vibrant purple (or reds, or pinks) become a vital part of a visually exciting tableau. Yeah, I just said that!

So, I printed out all the named iris stats onto envelopes, in full color. Then I separated them into bloom season (early, mid, late). And then began the fun of deciding which combinations of rhizomes should be created, and into which kind of bed (tires, raised beds, or kiddie pools) they should be planted. Now, I am going to toot my own horn again, and say that normally I am very very good at estimating how much time a task will take. And normally, I will brag about how that is one of my superpowers. Because of that, I will happily confess that I grossly, massively, and completely underestimated how long it would take me to create the layouts for the beds.

I figured it would take about an hour. It took closer to four. That was with Chris’ help. And that was after I had printed the envelopes, broken them into bloom-season groups, and made a preliminary layout. I was utterly unable to make the process faster, and I suddenly understood the appeal of planting them in alphabetical order.

When I woke up that morning at seven, I thought I would have everything planted by noon. Looking back, that is so naively adorable! I wrapped at sundown, because I still needed hardware and knew I wouldn’t get back before dark. Also, the dogs called and were threatening to see what they could whip up from leftovers and whatever was in the freezer... I had to call it a day. All the mid-season bloomers are planted in the raised beds, and the late-bloomers are the next to go in.

The great news is that I think we have a very attractive layout for each bed, and we will be able use all three types of beds for this test planting. I painted the tires for the early bloomers (because black tires in our climate will simply bake the roots of any rhizomes), so they finally got planted, too. Then I finished the drip system installation, and then... well, if you garden, you know there will always be something else. It will probably be weeding. I’m convinced the runoff will create beautiful green stripes of weeds in downhill rivulets from our beds... and then the gophers will really have something to think about!

Before that, though, here is a pictorial of how that first day commenced:

It started out hot, so we set up in the shade. You can see our magical raw materials: tires, raised beds, and lots of rhizomes. A thousand thanks to Chris for her help and delightful company. 

You don’t have to guess that it’s genius at work when you see we’re using the hood of the car to lay out our magic envelopes and create the masterful final designs (cough, cough).

I was pretty convinced we were going to need dozens of beds and walkways for the all the iris I ordered... and ha-ha, uh, no. This is pretty much the final configuration: early bloomers in the tires, midseason bloomers in the raised beds, and late bloomers in the kiddie pools. This all the room it takes to plant approximately 140 rhizomes. Yeah, I was surprised, too!

This was the trial layout before the tires were painted. The final layout is pretty much just like this preliminary version.

This is where the magic happened that first day. We laid out weed-blocking fabric, and then on top of that, we rolled out fine-grade wire mesh, to discourage the below-ground critters from coming up into the beds from underneath. I use the word “discourage” realizing they may come through anyhow, but at least we made it challenging!

You, too, can work for nine hours and have this to show for it! But, finally, rhizomes in the soil. Once the layout was in the database, we removed all the lovely tags, so the plants can just look natural. And relaxed. Like me.

There has been so much progress since these shots, so keep your eyes peeled for the next update. I can’t wait to share it all with you! And I keep my promises: here is a lovely photo of Doctor Who, a dynamite performer that I just love.

'Doctor Who' (George Sutton, R. 2009). Seedling U-740. TB, 37" (94 cm), Midseason to late bloom. Standards and style arms chinese yellow (RHS 20D); Falls beetroot purple (71A), chinese yellow and beetroot burst pattern; beards spanish orange; ruffled; slight sweet fragrance. 'Tropical Delight' X 'Snowed In'. Sutton 2010. Honorable Mention 2012.

The Nitty Gritty on the Down and Dirty

By Vanessa Spady

When it comes to growing iris, soil conditions will often dictate the quality and quantity of your rhizomes and blooms. Sure, other things make a difference as well—I for one think that a zesty combination of spoiling and neglect make for happy plants, but that’s for another post. About the soil...

Our little Comedy of Iris garden is located in central California, in a primarily agricultural area, which means we have a nice amount of space to start with (about an acre of open, slightly sloped land), but also some significant challenges when it comes to the dreadful native soil. As I mentioned previously, our soil has two basic textures—pudding when it rains, and concrete the rest of the time.

Luckily, the nutrient level is very low! (Hooray?) So trucking in good soil and amendments was a necessity. I had six yards of a really lovely loam delivered, and much to my astonishment, I have used it all. But, only the best for my newly purchased rhizomes, because, let’s face it, I want to see massive glorious blooms in the Spring!

Additionally, our hard ground is home to several kinds of critters that love it when we water—it makes the soil soft for them to dig through, and gives them something tasty and nutritious to eat. I, personally, do not like killing critters when they are in their territory, but no amount of reasonable conversation makes ground squirrels understand that they should go around the foundations of your barn when tunneling across your property. And gophers don’t care that the plant they just destroyed was a gift from your recently deceased mother... it was moist and tasty! Basically, any time you add water to our land, you attract the very vermin you want nowhere near your precious plants. Ugh.

Furthermore, it gets very hot here, and it’s quite dry. Because this is basically an irrigated desert, it’s over 100 degrees for weeks at time—so, really hot. And managing the watering (which requires more care during a drought) is also critical. Iris don’t like to be too wet (or they rot), and managing their moisture and nutrients is crucial for them to propagate and increase. But creating moisture means attracting critters that will eat their roots, if not the entire rhizome... wheeee?

So, even after we had good soil brought in, we faced challenges in keeping critters out of the beds, and not losing our stock to heat or rot. Time for some creative solutions.

When I was gardening back in my suburban setting, the soil was decent, critters were few, and the water was a spigot away... it was easy. All I had to do was not over-water, and feed once or twice a year, and I had gorgeous, happy iris all the time. After moving here, with the more challenging conditions, I have tried a variety of solutions, after losing most of a bed of named iris to a ground squirrel.

When I first planted iris in our country soil, they did so-so. I didn’t initially know how to manage the soil moisture and feeding was completely different here. But once I got it figured out, I saw lots of green growth, and happily awaited my first blooms. But they never came, and the number of rhizomes seemed to dwindle. Finally, a bit of loose soil at the back of the bed exposed the dirty truth: a ground squirrel had tunneled into the bed, from under my barn. He had been snacking on my lovely iris from beneath, and I hadn’t noticed him for weeks. This is when it started to get a little Caddy Shack...

I took up the few remaining iris, and dug out the entire bed to a depth of about one foot. I molded tight-weave chicken wire into an open-shoe box shape, and laid it into the hole where the bed had been. I then re-filled the bed, and planted a new batch of rhizomes, confident I had outsmarted the little blighter. Joke was on me, though. Several weeks later, as I was watering, I noticed a bump of loose dirt near the outside edge of the bed, and that dirt was moving.

“Ha!” I thought triumphantly to myself. “He’s just run into my chicken wire basket, and can’t tunnel his way through it!” I quietly laid down the hose, and watched to see what would happen. The little guy pushed the dirt out of the tunnel and popped his head above ground. I could see him looking around, so I held perfectly still. He ducked in again for a moment, then came up again, and to my outrage and astonishment, he got out of his tunnel, walked over the lip of the chicken wire barrier, and began to tunnel down into the bed, right in front of me!

The hours spent digging out the bed, making the chicken wire barrier, placing it in so carefully, and replanting the whole bed was undone in one moment. I had been played by a ground squirrel!

All bets were off after that. I dug up the remaining rhizomes from that bed and moved them into pots, but I never liked that solution, nor did my plants. Then I struck on using pallets as beds, which did a good job once I got the soil combination right. I placed the pallets on rocky ground, where the squirrels don’t really dig, and then filled all the slats with a combination of native soil, amendments, and planting mix. This had the added advantage of making it simple to keep iris from one bed or section from creeping into another section. I kept only one kind of iris in each pallet, and there was never any confusion. If we ever have an emergency, I can pick up the entire pallet and move it, bed and all. 

We knew from the beginning of this project that just digging up a little bed in the ground and plunking down the rhizomes was not going to be the method for success. For this initial growing year, we are trying a combination of kiddie pools mounted to pallets, raised beds (with a base of weed blocking cloth and wire mesh), and tires (with the same wire and cloth base). We cleared the surface of the soil of the dried and dead native growth (code for “weeds”), and began to layout the different kinds of beds we had to see how they might best work with the kinds of iris we ordered.

This was our preliminary layout, after we cleared the weeds, but before we put down the weed blocking cloth and wire. Ok, and before we painted the tires.

We opted to use only one level of these raised beds for this first year to see how they would do.

To give the iris the best chances for success, separating them from the ground was the smart move.  Besides, I don’t want to encourage any further comparisons between myself and Carl from Caddy Shack. 

The project has expanded considerably since this first phase, so you’ll have to keep your eyes peeled for updates and new photos. And you can bet there will be another load of the gorgeous loam heading our way sometime in the near future. Please, just don’t tell the gophers or ground squirrels.

And because I promised I would, here is a wonderful iris from Chris’ garden:

'Leave The Light On' ( Riley Probst, R. 2013) Seedling #U4WHXHM. IB, 22 (56 cm), Early, midseason and late bloom. Standards blue-purple with 1/16th gold edge; style arms bright yellow, vertical purple veining on style crests; falls blue-purple luminata pattern, bright yellow area with 1/4" white spear extending downward from beard; beards orange; pronounced sweet fragrance. 'Wild Hair' X 'High Master'. Fleur de Lis Garden 2013. Honorable Mention 2015.