A Tiny Tale … from The Garden …. ©Aliana Alani 2018
This tiny tale comes from The Garden. It is affectionately called: BULB TO BULB – a tiny Autumn Discourse.
Before I go into it, let me just say this about that. The weather – as it can so often be relied upon to do – is changing. At least here in the land of maple syrup. Not so much if you happen to be on the East Coast, nor if you happen to be on the fringes of the West. But if you happen to be anywhere East of the West or West of the East, let alone in the mid of the Middle, well then, changing, it is. And not, from my point of view, for the better. Why? COLD. I am aware that it is an almost existential part of life in the country in which I live, but how many people do you know who actually cherish it? Okay, some like it, some put up with it, some even snowshoe in it – but cherish? Exactly.
So, it’s getting colder, already. There have even been flakes of white stuff spotted in the mid of the Middle. And the Rockies, those towering peaks of magnificence are currently blanketed with it. It has even had the audacity to flutter and fall over the vineyards of the Okanagan. I mean, is nothing sacred?!
Therefore, it seemed appropriate that I write some little diddy (that’s a tiny tiny) to acknowledge, the moment. I might have let it go, had it, the diddy, not woken me up at 4 in the morning. Lacking the courage to roll over and go back to sleep, I dutifully wrote it down.
And so, without further adieu (don’t you just love that word), here is:
BULB TO BULB – a tiny Autumn Discourse
“It’s that time again,” said the Tulip Bulb, heaving a sigh. “I suppose.” Replied the Daffodil Bulb, somewhat distracted. “Under the ground then.” The Tulip Bulb added, as much a statement as a question. The Daffodil Bulb answered, rather sagely. “The Inner Earth, most likely.” “Cold there, I imagine.” Said the Tulip, remembering. “Soon enough.” Chimed the Daffodil. Pondering that, the Daff of Bulb added, “Brought your thermals, have you?” Beaming, the Bulb of Tulip said, “Got them specially! Guaranteed to keep a bulb cozy in the damp of dark.” “Brilliant. Frightfully clever of you. Know where I can get some? I almost froze my skins off last year.” “No worries,” said the Bulb of Tulip, “I’ve got extra. I’ll share.” “AH,” said the Daffodil Bulb, “you’re a good friend, so you are.”
And with that, they wrapped themselves up all nice and cozy in the very centre of those luscious thermals and began to softly slowly plunge into the earth to await the coming of the snows.
“Spring time, then.” Said the Tulip, its voice receding as it sank. “In Spring.” Came the muffled voice of the Daffodil.
And then they could be heard no more.
THE END … no, not really.