One of my earliest magical memories of the mysteries and wonders of Mother Nature was the hyacinth bulbs that my mum kept in a dark broom cupboard. All through the winter there would be the rich and earthy smell from the pots of bulbs that she planted. They had to stay in the dark she'd tell us. they didn't need water or light.
For a long time it seemed there was nothing there but earth, then one day there would be huge excitement as we spotted the first tiny sign of life, small green shoots would appear. It was an unforgettable feeling, the thrill of this magical appearance. When the shoots were considered ready my mum would take them out and we would watch their progress daily as they blossomed into beautiful hyacinths. We spend happy moments guessing whether they would be white, pink or blue.
Once they had blossomed our home would be full of their sweet, hopeful scent, signaling the end of winter and the arrival of Spring.
Year after year the magic of the bulbs never fails to delight and thrill. It is a tradition that I have kept, for the pleasure and for the dearly treasured memories of my mum, the one who started it all, the one that nurtured in me this immense joy of the beauty of nature in every day things. She is there, in the miracle from the first tiny shoots to the full blown blossom.
A whole cosmos in an airing cupboard, life lessons galore, some things have to be left alone, some things seems boring but are well worth the wait, the best things in life are free, the earth holds endless beautiful mysteries, and so on.
|Tulip bulbs planted in November start to appear|
|getting bigger every day|
|Last years bulbs left in a corner will bloom again|
|Here they are, three years old and still going strong|
|Dwarf hyacinths like company|
|Primulas and daffodils can't wait for spring|