Flowers from bulbs provide the world with happy hues, writes Justin Newcombe.
It takes a lot of technology to replicate the colours given to us by nature, and because we are bombarded constantly with one visual assault after another we tend to forget just how bright the natural world can be.
One of the brightest and most reliable forms of colour available to us is the flowers from bulbs. Bulb flowering has been long espoused as a sort of magical event. After a grim winter of frozen rivers, frozen wells and frozen family members, the first emergence of colour was an important morale booster, encouraging our forebears to grit their chattering teeth for just that little bit longer.
Crocus are one of the earliest bulbs to come up. They develop from single plantings to dense clumps of gentle purple, yellow and white spears which open out into a proud yellow-centred star. Crocus is no stranger to cold conditions and it's not uncommon for Northern Hemisphere folks to find them pushing their way through the remnants of a late snowfall. My neighbour has an amazing bed of crocus which makes a lovely spring posy when picked.
But there are few objects in human history that can remind us of just how stupid we can really be as the tulip. The Dutch inspired "tulip bubble" of the 1630s saw traders encouraging wealthy Europeans to part with vast sums of cash in return for unique or coveted tulip bulbs. Of course it eventually all collapsed. The casualties paddled around in their own financial ruin while the now valueless bulbs continued to bloom with wonderful forms that still remain a potent spring indulgence.