I love my new camera. And the fact that we’re edging towards spring. This glory of the snow blossom is in my front flower bed, and I took the photo from a distance of about three inches, which is about two feet closer than I could have taken it with my old camera.
The maple key to the right of the flower is about two inches long.
A sad story aired on the local news here about a month ago. Van Lierop Bulb Farm is no more. They’re closing down operations due to the owners’ retirement, and the shop, and more importantly, the display garden, will be closing for good at the end of May. This leaves the Puyallup Valley, about an hour south of Seattle and once one of the world’s pre-eminent daffodil growing areas, with only one active bulb farm where their used to be over a dozen.
Change can be good. But this change sure isn’t.
I mean, I understand about wanting to retire, and I understand about children not necessarily wanting to work in the family business, and I also understand about how it’s at least partly land values that have pushed farming out of the fertile valleys within commuting distance of the biggest city in the Pacific Northwest. But that doesn’t mean I have to like it.
At any rate, I made one last daffodil-season visit to Van Lierop’s a couple of weeks ago, and took pictures of the display garden. While it was really obvious that the annual bulb-planting did not happen this past fall, daffodils are perennial bulbs, as are several other kinds. And the trees and shrubs were still beautiful. But the patches of ground where tulips and hyacinths, which aren’t as reliably perennial, used to crowd in past years were so bare.
Van Lierop’s was the place for Easter pictures in my neck of the woods, and a beautiful place on any given day between early March and early May. And I’m going to miss it something fierce.