October already! One of the distinguishing marks of autumn is aging plants with their browning edges and “age spots” on the leaves. They show the marks of survivorship, but no one admires these badges of courage. The bug-bitten, missing chunks of leaves; the dry, bent stems and the faded blooms are never met with appreciation for what the poor plant may have experienced. Inside each of these seemingly ugly old specimens is a story of its life in the garden. Sometimes, it also holds a seed, bulb or rhizome of a new plant that will strike wonder in our hearts next spring. We rarely look beyond the homely surface, though. A few of my irises developed a disease and had to undergo surgery to remove the diseased parts. Then, they were left to dry completely. A couple weeks ago, I found some of the dried-out roots and planted them in pots. Later, I almost mistook them for empty pots before I saw the sad little iris root near the top of the soil. As with the elderly, these shriveled roots hold a beautiful life within, but they sure don’t exhibit this at first glance. A young lady of my acquaintance insists that she does not like being around old people. “They smell. They look strange. They dress weird.” Those flamingo pink, polyester, elastic-waist pants paired with the teal shirt may not make it onto the cover of Vogue, but underneath that peculiar exterior may reside a soul that has grown from