AS we trudge on through March, I do all kinds of things to help me cope while others are celebrating spring's arrival. Yesterday, a bunch of tulips in the grocery store caught my eye, and climbed into my cart. Who was I to argue?
I divided them into two vases and put some in the kitchen (warmest room in the house) and some in my office (coolest room). It doesn't take long for them to respond to the temperatures.
These are parrot tulips, called Libretto Parrot. I hadn't seen them before, and normally I go for the more flamboyant parrots. But I liked the subtle freshness of these. A woman who used to work for the Bulb Information Centre told me that she thought parrots look like technicolour lettuces. I see her point.
At first, tulips in a vase splay every which way, but this morning the office tulips, still more closed than the kitchen vase, stood up pertly and offered their petals for inspection.
I explained to the kitties that these tulips had frilled edges to their petals, but I didn't want to see teethmark 'frills'. They've been very good and left them alone.
Even though the natural light wasn't perfect, I didn't want to use my flash to explore the tulips subtle beauties. Their petals are so lustrous, translucent and light-holding, and the secrets in their hearts make me smile and smile. (I was too lazy to go out to my camera bag in the car trunk and get the macro lens this morning. Maybe tomorrow).
Gazing into these perfect petals, I am sure that spring will eventually find its way to us, even to my high windy hill.