On Saturday I got up and ran five miles and then went to choir practice.
After choir practice, the rest of Saturday ensued: Costco, grocery store, making the mortgage payment, stopping at the orchard.
Back home, I began the process of putting everything away and dumping some things in my fridge, but not before putting these lovelies in a vase and making a home for them on my table.
The sun was shining and it was warm (for February) out. I opened my back door and the French doors in the living room, some Civil Wars playing as background music through my phone.
I kept looking around me at the golden light filtering in through the windows, and those tulips.
I've always loved fresh flowers.
But at this time of year, tulips remind me of my dad.
He often brought tulips in the springtime, for no reason at all, and they graced our table.
The snow was (basically) melted off the deck and my heart felt light.
And then, I filled my fruit bowl: with clementines, orchard apples, avocados, kiwi, lemons, pears, and mangoes.
The bananas wouldn't even fit in the bowl.
And the word that came to mind was abundance.
Abundance and beautiful.
But these tulips?
I've been looking at them all week, every time I turn around, savoring.
I'm grateful for their bright, simple, elegant gorgeousness.
In fact, it's reminding me of a scriptural phrase we read this morning around this same table, that even Solomon, in all his glory, was not arrayed like one of these.
But it was talking about lilies of the field.
But whatever. Same diff.
And, for the record, I totes agree.