It takes a flower of infinite grace to withstand being turned into a potted ubiquity at every neighborhood nursery, grocery store, and florist shop, which is where I’m bumping into tulips this month. Growing them for myself is an intensely personal experience, one that exists outside the bounds of commerce. Nothing can cheapen it. And of all the plants that we bemoan have seen ruination from hybridizers (like the “falls” of irises that antithetically stand out straight from the bloom like propellors), the more outre tulips become, fringed and doubled, the more we covet them, such a long association have tulips and people had interfering in each others’ lives.
Last year it was a couple pots, this year five. Next year, double that.