The first time I went to Giverny – and inside the high walls surrounding Claude Monet’s home and garden – it was May. Iris were everywhere.
They were tall and sparkling with dew in shades of mauve, purple, yellow and white. They took the lead in a joyful song of spring with lilacs and wisteria as voluptuous back up singers. My mind grabbed that purple haze of flowers and sealed it away. Irises became synonymous with Giverny for me. I never thought of how it would be the rest of the year. My recent visit was an epiphany.
April means tulips at Giverny.
The iris were only thinking about their diva-ish debut. The wisteria were wistfully waking, the lilacs were racing the apple blossoms for heightening senses with their scents-ability.
I think I’ll need to go every month of the year to truly understand the beauty of Monet’s intricate masterpiece. This visit was the fulfillment of an innocent wish made at another time and another place – far from Paris or Giverny. I’ll tell you a bit about that before I share some of the photos I took of Monet’s true masterpiece.