While out walking Sheba maybe a week ago, I happened on this:
Don't see it? Maybe if I tighten in a little:
Well, it's there. The resolution on the picture is only just so good:
I assume there used to be more of them at one time, and that the others were dug up, or died, or something. Still. Struck me as amusing. Incongruous, even. It's especially impressive since it must either get mowed over constantly during the year, or else crowded out by weeds. Seems like a rough way of making a living.
I was immediately tempted to say, "that poor little baby!" But how can I feel sorry for something that's obviously powerful enough to mock a mower and laugh at the weeds it's surrounded by? Instead of poor little baby, it seems to be a defiant little warrior princess bitch.
ReplyDeleteThat's awesome. You should mark it with a stake or something and collect it later for your garden. There's a relatively young guy who collects bulbs in the south from abandoned homesteads.
ReplyDeleteI once saw a tulip blooming in an empty lot, yellow too, and was going to collect it, but then the next day the empty lot had been paved over and my plan was ruined.
btw, your zooming in reminded me of this: http://www.makemymood.com/2009/10/21/csi-zoom-story/
I love it when people move flower beds but forget about the bulbs. I'm always delighted by the random flowers but then I get mad at the people for not thinking things through. It's basically an emotional roller coaster for me every time I go on a walk.
ReplyDeleteReminds me of an odd lot I used to drive past on my way to work at the Oregon Garden. The old farm house was long gone, but there were still two old rhododendrons marking what was once the driveway entrance. Every spring a few Narcissus heads peeked up too. It was kind of surreal with the expanse of nothing behind it.
ReplyDeleteThere are a couple of places I see from the train to work, with a few daffodils growing in random places among the fields. I always wonder how they got there.
ReplyDelete