Thursday, April 28, 2005


When I was about 14 or 15 I went on a field trip to Washington DC. I don't remember if we stayed in a hotel, but it would have been a really long trip if we didn't. What I do remember is giggling every time we noticed the phallic symbol of the Washington Monument following us in the skyline, going through security at the White House, and tulips. Lots of tulips. I took pictures, mostly of beds of tulips. The difference between where we lived and DC was enough that tulips, those first burts of spring color, were not close to blooming back home.

Here I am many years later and I keep buying tulips for my apartment, drawn to the simplicty of their shape and color in the same way I guess I've always been. This particular bunch lasted long - none of that wilting or petal dropping that sometimes comes before the flowers even open fully. These burst open and hung there, wide-eyed, bold, daring. I took too many pictures of them.

Then, on the walk home from the Bridge on Sunday, I saw more in a park and naturally my camera came out.


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