Tiptoeing Around the Tulips
Yesterday was Easter Sunday. While not one the largest holidays out there, it still carries significant enough weight to cause changes to your schedule. Growing up, Easter was often split between my father’s parents (who lived near us) and my grandmother (who lived a bit further, she’s the one that recently passed on.) For me it was the first big holiday without, and one that she very much enjoyed. Additionally my grandmother had a gigantic flower garden when I was growing up, I remember visits with her in spring and summer I could often her out her gardens (she had a veggie one as well.) I am not able to tell you what type of flowers she had in the big garden in the back, but I do remember the “family entrance”; (what is considered the less formal entryway, and the one we always went through) this is where she kept her flamingo flock and her tulips. She was very proud of those flowers, and while I am sure she never admitted it, they were probably her favorite. Fresh cut flowers on the table after Easter services are something I recall whenever I think of Spring and her.
Yesterday in a not planned way (except subconsciously, by me) The Giant, my Bestie and I drove to Mount Vernon, WA and looked at the tulips in bloom
First foremost, the colors of the flowers are some of the most vivid I have ever seen in my life. As in, take my breath away because of the colors, kind of thing.
We were fortunate enough to find a working farm that allowed us to walk around the fields as long as we stayed on the main trail from the tractor. Despite the mud and having to hop from one tread spot to another it was still pretty fun. I was the only one who missed and got my foot in the mud. In my defense, the Giant and my Bestie both have bigger feet and longer legs.
I really love this photo above, because the colors overwhelmed my phone camera so much, it makes it look almost like it’s a painting instead.
As a seasonally allergy suffer, I ended up doing pretty well until we were down wind of all the flowers. Sneezing sucks by the way.
It was astounding at just how vivid the flowers were, and how a swath of them could make a different look, than what you see from a lone flower close up. The weather was cool, crisp and clean. We arrived before the majority of the crowd showed up, so the three of us were fortunate to get photos with few people in them.
I personally loved spotting the odd one out in the rows of colors. Although it did take me awhile to spot the first one.
The sky and the mountains decided to play a bit nice as well.
It was such a peaceful and calm experience and something that I probably never even consider going to before. Yet, there I was on Easter Sunday looking at flowers and knowing that my grandmother would have been just as excited as I was. It makes my heart hurt to think she will not be able to visit us out here, that she will no longer get to participate in Church services, or even that this won’t be the hardest holiday to get through without her.
I can just see her smile when she looks on fields of random Daffodil.
I’d like to think, a little bit of her lives on in my smile.