In the carport of my little house in Twisp, each year about this time a brave, resilient red tulip pops up through the gravel — right where until recently the lingering snow held domain. I can tell the tulip is coming back when its leaves begin pushing up toward daylight. I am very careful not to drive over it.
It’s a rogue tulip, an outlier with no immediate neighbors. I imagine the solitary bulb hibernating all winter, persevering to another seasonal change. Each year, I wonder if it will return, seemingly against the odds. It’s not as if the flower has a supportive community like those in the vast, multi-colored fields near Mount Vernon.
But this is one tough tulip. A few days ago the petals began to emerge and then popped open, which made me happy. I wouldn’t think of cutting it for a vase — it needs to live out the natural cycle programmed in its plant DNA. Already the petals are beginning to fade and retreat, and soon they will fall off. Because that’s what tulips do. You have to admire their persistence and consistency. Also, they are nice to look at.
It’s been a rough winter that begrudgingly gave way, leaving scattered, grimy, ragged little clumps of snow until the temperatures finally prevailed. The driveway tulip — my tulip, as I like to think of it — is one of the harbingers of spring that I count on.
We are on the downside of shoulder season now and the upside of tourism season. Like the tulips, there are other Methow Valley indicators that we are making the transition.
For one thing, the wildflowers are going, well, wild. The stunning variety and distribution of the valley’s favorite spring blooms and blossoms are something we should never take for granted, or stop being grateful for.
There was a marathon a couple of weeks ago — people running where they might conceivably have been skiing not too long ago. Last week the eclectic and energetic sales force from Zumiez was in the valley for their annual training/boot camp, hundreds of them filling up nearly every available room in the upper valley.
This week, the North Cascades Highway will open for traffic, although it will still look and perhaps feel a lot like winter up on the passes. On Friday, the Ride to Rendezvous wagon train will shake off the trail dust (mud?) and finish a week of rambling with a trip through Winthrop to kick off the annual ’49 Days festivities. There be a brief respite until Labor Day weekend, and then off we go.
Oh, then there’s the spring runoff. Which is the mildest descriptor imaginable if you saw any of the torrential mayhem last weekend. The streams and rivers were running high, fast, dirty — and scary. In many places the water did what water is inclined to do, that is, spread everywhere it can. Rampaging nature does not distinguish or discriminate. If you’re in the way, too bad. There will be damage to assess and repair when the stream flows recede to whatever looks like normal this time of year.
It’s not every spring that we can say this, but it bears saying this year: Next week, Monday through Friday, is the filing period for local elective offices that will be on the ballot this year. If you are thinking about it, or know someone who is, don’t let the opportunity pass. Elections are too important to go uncontested.
Summer will be upon us before we know it, with its own familiar markers. My tulip will be gone — at least the above-ground, showy part — but I want to believe I can count on it to be back in a year. In fact, I’ll make a deal with it: I will if you will.
