But where are the tulips?

The other morning I started to look at the changes that had happened in one week.

Day-by-day changes happen right in front of us, but usually we are in too big of a hurry to notice. Just sticks the next day buds appear, and after the ground warms, the flowers magically paint the landscape of the new season. All in a sea of yellow dust washing the pollen like tumbleweeds.

Looking for a symbol of this season shift, I take visual note of the purple azaleas, yellow daffodils, white and pink dogwoods, but it was the tulips that caught my eye.

Standing tall and strong, bright colored stalks guarded green busy beds and lined walkways. Some were all the same color, some were mixes.

I passed one remarkable group and took a second glance. A mass of proud flowers, brilliant in their variety, strong in their presentation. Black, red, yellow, orange, solid and variegated.

Tomorrow I will bring my camera and capture this image. A perfect symbol of Spring.

The next morning, sliding my camera into my pocket shorts, I proceeded to my usual destination, trying to remember where these tulips had been. Yard after familiar yard passed. There were tulips, but I could not find the group from the day before.

With my camera at the ready, I retracted my path, once, then twice. Various flowers presented themselves. Pastels, solids, thin patches of tulips, but they were not the ones that caught my eye before.

Maybe I had gone a different route? Maybe I had seen them on a side street? Maybe they were on my Sunday route? Maybe they had been trimmed and taken inside? Maybe I had not seen them at all? Maybe I'm just crazy?

The next day, the same route, scanning the yards for the image of spring which could not be found.

Sometimes you see something special. Something at the moment that catches your eye, strikes a chord in your existence, captures an emotion; only to look and feel entirely different the next day. Sometimes what appears to be magic is just reality in disguise.

but where are the tulips?

I guess I'll have to wait until next spring to find them again. Or maybe there were never there?