I brought the bunch of ten tulips home to bring a bit of spring into the kitchen. Ten yellow tulips with just a touch of orange for contrast. Buds closed with the promise of a bloom in a day or two. Carefully, I set them in the sink and freed them from the strings and bands and cellophane sleeve that held them together. Each seemed grateful to rest on its own, apart from the others. I made a slanted cut on each stem an inch or two from the bottom, and removed any torn or tattered leaves. I placed them, one by one, in a small glass vase filled with cool water, my fingers feeling the softness of the petals. One was a bit too high. I pulled it out and repositioned it so that its stem could better reach the bottom. Gently, I unfurled a leaf… and then another. Finally, I stood back and took in the wonder of this gift.
Music for the eyes.