The other day I saw a picture that someone had posted on Facebook. They had clipped the first flowers of the season from their yard and put them in a vase for all to see. It was a beautiful display of bright yellow Daffodils
Daffodils are, to the best of my knowledge and experience, the first flowers to bloom in Springtime. There may be others that bloom first, but in my neighborhood the Daffodils always lead the way into Spring. They are an explosive yellow sign that Winter is over and that we have survived. They are a bright burst of color announcing the renewal of Life for another year.
I don’t know much about flowers, I appreciate them and their diverse beauty, but my academic knowledge is meager indeed. If I like how they look they are flowers. If I don’t like them they are weeds. That doesn’t exactly make me into the reincarnation of Luther Burbank does it?
When I see those first flowers of the Season it lifts my spirits, thawing my frozen soul from the glacier of yet another cruel Winter. It’s like they are a reward for having made it through. When I see those yellow blooms I cannot help but smile. The air may still be bitter and I may still be wearing my heavy coat and gloves but those Daffodils get my attention with their message. I can’t bring myself to cut them and bring them into the house. I can see them from the kitchen window. That’s enough for me and the flowers stay where they look the best.
I’ve thought about planting some other flowers that are Early Bloomers. Tulips are very nice and colorful as well. I haven’t ever done it though. I’m not the kind who enjoys digging in the dirt. Farmer John I’m not. I did plant corn one time many years ago. It grew nicely even though it was in a large planter next to my desk in a fifth floor office. No, I’m content to see the Daffodils through that window. I don’t know who first planted them there in the backyard, but “Thank You” whoever you were.
Daffodils are my favorite flowers. Yellow is my favorite color. The yellow makes me think of the sun and the warming rays that keep me alive. And what is a better backyard reminder of that than the Daffodil?
I’m going to keep the picture of that vase with the Daffodils. It will last longer than the flowers outside of my kitchen window and I can turn to it whenever I feel the need – in those hours when I feel the cold creeping up on me figuratively or literally. That and it’s just plain pretty.
And isn’t that good enough?
Below is a poem about Daffodils by William Wordsworth. It is perhaps his best known work.
I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o’er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:
For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.