A crocus can be seen as a colourful expression of a meditative mind. The biggest part of a year the plant is withdrawn in the earth, a growing reflection towards itself. At a certain point in time, early spring, the bulb pops up and spreads its fragile blooming beauty into a cold winter garden. As an exuberant manifesto towards the grey skies, the flower opens up. Early spring storms drown the crocus with rain and all colours are washed away. What is left is the essential surviving part of the plant, hidden and covered in the ground, with only some tiny green leafs in the lawn. For a short while.