Every autumn, throughout her childhood, we repeated the ritual of planting the bulbs together. And every autumn I saw her changing; the toddler became a schoolgirl, a straightforward realist, full of drive. Never once dreamy, her hands in her pockets; no longer happily indulging her fantasies5. The school girl developedlong legs, her jawine changed, she had her hair cut. It was autumn again and I thought “Bye roses; bye butterflies；bye schoolgirl.” I listened to her stories while we painstakingly burrowed in the earth, planting the promise of spring.
Suddenly, much quicker than I had expected, a tall teenager was standing by my side: she had grown taller than I. The ritual became rather silent, we no longer chattered a