I wanted to share this passage with you (the 1 or 2 people who are actually reading this blog) from Elizabeth Hay's Late Night on Air (McCelland & Stewart, 2007, pgs. 345-346):
After a while, she stood up and switched off the radio, then went to the window. Autumn crocuses splayed wide in the garden below like mauve, over-the-hill mushrooms. Or birthday candles melted down into a soft, crazy tilt. From here she could see how candle-white the stems were. Autumn crocuses were something she'd never known about until she moved into this old house in Ottawa. The small, leggy flowers expired almost as soon as they appeared. At the window she became
aware of unhappy crows, their racket outside.I love the whimsical and colourful way she describes the crocuses. From my own window I have been watching my purple ones push their way out of the earth; bright happy umbrellas braving the spring rains. And I found myself nodding my head in acknowledgement with her observations regarding the loud irritable crows.
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