Today I threw caution to the wind and planted a lot of striped tulips. Of course, it is fall, and nobody will know about this rash act until the tulips bloom next spring, but I feel as if I have committed a small act of rebellion.
For years I maintained a pastel color scheme in my front garden. I bought pastel mix assortments of early, mid and late blooming tulips to ensure a constant display of soft pinks, lavenders, yellows, peaches and creams. The effect was lovely--soft and dreamy--and the neighbors loved it. I loved it.
Then one day I was visiting a friend who had a big vase filled with enormous scarlet tulips on her dining room table. They were stunning. Her garden featured more of the same, with giant "Emperor" type tulips in only two colors--red and white. It was electrifying. When I came home, I looked at my garden and decided that it was too polite and refined. It lacked passion. I resolved that the next time I planted tulips I would pick varieties with strong colors.
Then I saw a picture of 'Carnaval de Nice', a red and white-striped tulip, and I knew exactly what my garden needed--stripes. A whole new world opened up for me, because, of course, there are lots of striped and flamed tulips out there. I looked at Rembrandts and parrots, not to mention more conventional varieties with less flamboyant stripes. Choosing was hard. In the end I stuck with fifty 'Carnaval de Nice' and an equal number of 'Mount Tacoma', a double white-flowered tulip that blooms at the same time as 'Carnaval de Nice'. I planted them in big round holes in groups of five, scattered throughout the garden. The combination will add a little sizzle without making the garden look completely chaotic.
Of course now that the door is open, who knows what will happen next year at this time. I might go crazy and buy a parrot tulip mix or indulge in one hundred viridiflora tulips with green-tinged petals or buy scores of Rembrandts in all kinds of exotic colors. In time my garden may be too hot for the suburbs. You never know.