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lamenting the tulip

I was talking to a neighbor today on the morning walk to school.  Tulips seemed to be the topic of conversation.  Both of us come from the north, where snow is melting and one always looks forward to the green stem poking out of the slushy remnants of winter.  They surprise you every spring, coming back and back again when you’ve forgotten you had planted them the previous fall.  There are no tulips here in the desert.  None that I’ve seen anyways.  I miss their promise of spring and their perky flowers that tip over as they come to the end of their cycle.

As we walked, I couldn’t help but notice punches of color in almost every yard.  The rose in the desert thrive in the spring.  While everything else is cut down and starting over, the roses will bush out and bud, giving color to a mostly brown and green landscape.  And while I miss the tulips and the black soil of the north, I think I’m ok with roses grown out of red clay.  They are different faces of spring and both promise the coming of summer and hotter days (or in our case, Africa hot days).  Thank you spring for showing up, I like how you look!

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