I am in love with my tulips. It was a pre-meditated emotion, although I never expected it to be so strong. Last fall I loaded up a new audio book on my iPod, dumped three hundred dried and ugly bulbs into a large bowl, stirred them, then stepped outside into the cold, windy October day. As the clouds spit occasional drops of rain at my neighborhood, I hacked at the chilled dirt around our house with an ancient trowel and carefully placed bulb after bulb into the loosened soil. This better be worth it, I thought as an icy drop of rain struck the back of my neck, followed immediately by a gust of wind.
Later, after my aching muscles healed and the last lines of the story I’d been listening to faded away, I began to forget which types of plants I’d so carefully buried in the fall-caked soil. I did not try to keep this information, but let it drift along on the same rivers of forgetfulness that have carried away far more important details — friends’ birthdays, state capitals, the proper spelling of hors d’ovouers. ( <– This is not it.)
All winter I eyed the patches of dirt, waiting for signs of stirring. A few days ago we finally had foliage. And today we have these:
I knew I had tulips, but I did not know they would so far surpass the ordinary varietals. They are flanked by grape hyacinths and other purple flowers whose name I’m certain I’ve never known. Other greenery has begun to emerge from the ground all around them. They will soon bear their own flowers, and I will be surprised all over again.
I do so love spring. Especially when I plant ahead for it.
those are gorgious!
They are pretty. Isn’t it wonderful to be surprised at the bloom.
I hope your weekend is a good one.
“I do so love spring. Especially when I plant ahead for it.”
Hah, love the play on words. They’re beautiful, you should be proud. 😀
How beautiful! I’m trying to re-learn how to garden. I hope it is half as rewarding as those gorgeous flowers!
Oh, so very pretty. And I absolutely adore the way you threw them into a bowl, mixed them up and let Mother Nature take care of the rest. No perfectly planned gardens for you, nosiree! I may be inspired to start posting about my pumpkin.
And listening to Water for Elephants while you did this? It kinda fits in a very rebirth sort-of way.
Your description of the planting was wonderful. You should be writing in that vein. (Thank me later for adding one more thing to your to-do list, but you really should. Your writing is so evocative and wistful–just beautiful.)
Those are late tulips! Mine are all already done for the season. They are so beautiful, but it’s such a disappointment that they are gone so quickly! Yours are lovely!
What beautiful flowers. I love them. Since I’m in Florida, our planting cycles are all askew so I have to find out when we have to plant bulbs for tulips. Obviously, I’m not a gardener as I don’t know already.
Those are truly lovely! I love tulips too, they’re on my top five flower list. Though I wasn’t as ambitious as you, and my last batch were store bought! Though red tulips play a significant role in my upcoming paranormal book, EVERMORE. . .
I’m such a book geek…i’m more interested in what you downloaded than the tulips!? (although they do look great). I just downloaded “The English American” and its off to a great start. I’m a total audio/download junkie!
Gardening is such a great metaphor for writing. You plant the idea, and wait until you see a sprout. We have so little winter in San Antonio that tulips are an annual here. They have to be replanted every year. Thanks for letting me enjoy yours vicariously.