Consider the lilies of the field. They neither toil nor spin, but even Solomon in all his glory is not clothed as they.

Well, the lilies may not be blooming now, but the tulips certainly are. For years, I fought a battle with critters who feasted on my tulip bulbs, destroyed my hostas and made a number of things of beauty vanish.

But, for three years in a row, a bed of tulips has not only bloomed, but has come back. They aren’t supposed to do that, are they? But they are doing it.

This just goes to show that, as an old friend used to say, “Even a blind hog finds an acorn now and then.”

Reblooming tulips resistant to varmints may not be of great importance to many who do not garden, but for me it is a refreshing bit of good news that reaffirms the cycle of living, growing things.

Plants are very much like children. You can take every possible care of them, but they may not grow and flourish as you think they ought. I’ve planted seeds claiming to be one thing but that turned out to be something else.

And sometimes you’ll find when you buy plants, what you expect to see isn’t what is produced.

We’ve planted peppers labeled Bell and harvested Jalapenos. This is a fact of life. And bedding plants are not always the color you wanted.

We’ve all seen fathers who are sports-mad parent small boys who aren’t interested in playing football. They may have other talents and other interests.

Wise parents try to support these children and their interests. And though the result may not be fulfilling the father’s dream of playing in the NFL, that child still is valuable and worthy of pride.

Plants can suffer from neglect. They can wither from drought and drown from flooding. They can get diseases, fungus and wilt.

We do what we can, but sometimes they don’t produce.

This is disappointing, but not a catastrophe. It’s just life.

And the next growing season, we try again.

That’s one reason it is so extraordinary to me that with little or no effort on my part, the tulips have been beautiful.

I can’t explain why, because I don’t know.

But I’m grateful and celebrate every bloom. As each bloom opens its beautiful face to the sun, I know to admire and appreciate it for the short time it glorifies the garden, for soon its petals will fade and drop from the stem. That’s part of the tulip’s life cycle.

It’s reassuring to believe that next year the tulips will bloom again. They’ll likely be the same variety, the same color, grow the same height as they did this year and last about as long.

That’s what we can count on. It’s one more gift appearing each spring that only requires gratitude.

Not through anything I do or don’t do, but because it is what a tulip does. I do so appreciate it.

Meanwhile, although we have no control over the coronavirus, we can control how we react to it.

Stay out of town, spray your money on each side, spray your mail and your mail box, stay at home, wear masks and gloves, stay away from people, sanitize food containers, grocery bags and boxes, door knobs, cellphones, remote controls, microwave buttons, surfaces in your house and car, and wash your hands.

Listen to the medical community. Don’t worry about what the politicians say. Listen to the scientists.

And most of all, don’t risk your life because you are bored.