I was going to do a write up this morning of Spring Caravan, which I attended (and danced at!) on Saturday, but instead, the tulips in my front yard called me.
They are so gorgeous in their authentic old age. Lots of the tulips have lost all their petals, but these two (really the one on the left) are still hanging in there:
I don't get tired of them. I don't get tired of life, even when I am damn tired (which I am, oh I am). It's too beautiful. Everywhere around me, beauty is exploding and imploding. And it bursts forth in abundance or recedes in a quieter joy.
Ebb. Flow. Explode. Implode. There's beauty everywhere. Everywhere.