Our deer love a fresh tulip bud. It seems there is nothing quite like it in Spring. My contemplation garden is now a collection of straight green stems standing among a bed of abundant tulip leaves. Except for this one. The lone survivor.
I said to a fellow gardener this weekend, "I don't know why I even plant tulips." She suggested I put a row of tulips in my fenced vegetable garden. That's what she does. Brilliant. And wise.
This morning the sun landed on this bold tulip at just the right slant, and the scene was far more captivating than this photo represents. The redness blazed forth with uniqueness and vibrance. The petals shimmered.
In due time, our lone tulip began to sway. Ever so gently, this gorgeous flower rocked back and forth. Was it moaning? Its petals are not long for this world. Or, was this lone beauty humming a morning hymn? It swayed and I lingered with a loving, grateful gaze.
Soon enough, I felt a sweet brush of air move across my face. I cannot call it a breeze. The air was just enough across my face to accompany a tulip swaying, humming its morning hymn.
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