I remember going with my grandmother to the White Flower Farm, in Litchfield, CT, when I was 6-7 years old. I was fascinated with all the splendid flowers for sale there. I was especially taken with the darker colors of Iris she picked out—one was called Root Beer for its brown color. There were also golds and creams, totally different from the reds and oranges and pinks of flowers I was familiar with at such a young age. I wish they had received better care in the '70s and early 80s long after my grandmother died in '69, but unfortunately these Irises died out also. This is a horrible discolored Polaroid, something must have fallen on it and stained it in the intervening years, but Photoshop helped me clean it up pretty well.