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near Toronto's few skyscrapers
[Photo by KPA]
I found a field of daffodils the other day, but spring for me means tulips. I think they are loved and ignored in almost equal proportions (sometimes by the same person), which even daffodils cannot boast of. Daffodils have a grand poem written for them, whereas tulips get Sylvia Plath. For all their modesty, tulips were part of the biggest (and earliest) commercial speculations, from which they remained unscathed and no less modest, and continue to adorn, for a fair price, peoples pots and gardens.