My mom filled up the flower beds in the back yard with irises; there were the usual colors, like yellow or purple, but there were also exotic ones, like black. Or the white variety that had blooms as big as a softball. I loved those flowers.

But they weren’t a match for the kind of wind we have in west Texas, and often their fragile petals would be bruised or torn by the wind. On nights when the wind blew, I’d lie awake, feeling sad for the way I knew the flowers would look in the morning.

I have a few irises now, dug from my mom’s yard. The big white ones started blooming the other day, the day the temperatures were over 90°F. Last night, the wind blew all night, and this morning’s temperature was almost down to freezing.

Also, last night, I was awake almost all night, unable to sleep from some vague worry that I couldn’t quite define. It wasn’t until I was driving to work this morning that I thought about my mom’s irises and my youthful, sleepless nights. And understood why I was awake last night.

Lubbock, Texas
photographed 3.24.2012