I grew Narcissus in the window of my apartment this winter.
The bulbs arrived in a netted bag packed with accordion crinkles of craft paper. They were fragile in the way dead things are - shedding a concave paper skin that was brittle and shiny like an onion's.
But there is a certain kind of blind faith that comes from years of following instructions. So, I placed them over water and walked off.
Overnight, the creamy husks pushed upwards. Tendrils of roots reached down. In a matter of days there were green butter-knife leaves, followed by clusters of tight blooms that burst open one and two at a time.
Looking at them, I thought of Camus
"In the depths of winter I finally learned that within me lay an invincible summer"
Their stems were lanky - loose and overlong - slightly anemic from being inside. But their presence was undeniable; white as the miracle they were.
(photos) on film with Nikon FM