Tucked into hedgerows or peeping out from under trees, the stinking iris, Iris foetidissima, is in full glory right now, its vibrant coral berries bursting from their seed pods amid the deep-green foliage.
In summer, Iris foetidissima is easily overlooked. Its flowers are quite beautiful up close, with their delicate veining, but from a distance are a dull-leaden blue, or blue and beige-yellow, tempered and not inelegant, but perhaps too easily lost among the dagger-like foliage (which has a meaty smell when crushed, hence its name).
However, they save their best trick for last, with brilliant berries appearing in late autumn and persisting right through the winter and into early spring. The berries are deeply poisonous to humans, but not to birds, making this native plant a very valuable food source for wildlife. The birds won’t touch them till late in the season, when they have softened some. I notice mostly blackbirds devouring them.
Stinking iris’s ability to thrive in extreme dry shade means it’s particularly useful for, say, jollying up the base of a leylandii hedge that you can’t get rid of, or for a dark, basement courtyard that only sees a sliver of sunlight. Its tolerant nature means it is also unfazed by the battering of seaside weather; you often see it growing in shady parts along cliff tops.
What is less well known is the smattering of interesting cultivars and varieties of this species. These will take some hunting down, and may require a visit to a few rare plant fairs, but they are well worth the hunt. If you chance upon Iris foetidissima “Citrina”, a yellow-flowered form, jump on it. The flowers are a muted, yet joyous yellow with a deeper purplish bronze centre, and you still get those vibrant orange/red berries in the winter.
Two further cultivars are selected for their leaf forms: “Variegata”, with its cream and green striped foliage (it reminds me of deckchairs, but I can see that in the right space it could work); and “Paul’s Gold”, which is yellow-leafed, particularly in spring with new growth. It also has a dwarf form, making it very useful for pots and containers.
Finally, a few forms have different-coloured berries. There’s a golden-seeded one which appears naturally in the wild, and is often sold as either “Golden Seeded” or “Golden Gobbet”, but “FructuAlbo” is the one to lust over. I saw it once years ago and foolishly passed it by and, oh, do I covet it now. Instead of vibrant orange berries, it has polished white ones that sit inside the furry interior of the seed head like brilliant pearls – the only sort of jewellery I long for.