The bulbs have been amenably taking their cues to provide some colour to my postage stamp garden. First, there were the crocuses and primroses, followed by the violets, daffodils and hyacinths, and now the various tulips. After Vancouver’s drab, wet winter, I welcome each and every one of these flowers, sometimes like an old friend making its perennial appearance or, as new kids on the block, like these tulips. The Boy and I planted them last September, and I am really enjoying their creamy pink heads. The flowers don’t stay around for very long. “My turn!” they seem to exclaim as they take center stage for their moment of glory, joyful performers of color nodding in the wind, before they take their bow and go.
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