The garden of an old folk house, which has no people to live in, is utterly neglected. A single iris flower is in bloom there. Under the clear sky, my heart quivers with its dignified standing appearance. Perhaps there was a nice garden here in the past, and in spring, irises with other flowers would have given spices to the garden. This single iris that has survived continues to wait for her master’s return. The iris blooming without anybody seeing it, and the iris blooming in the famous garden, both are blooming as much as possible to connect lives during also this spring.