The first sign of spring I look for is the sunny smile of the daffodil—a treasured memory from earlier years. My Dad would always present me with a bouquet of daffodils in honor of my March birthday. I loved their fresh smell and smooth sturdy stems. Sadly, the many clumps of bulbs planted in our front yard have created lots of leaves, but failed to put up more than one malnourished flower in all the thirteen years we’ve lived here on the ridge. Not so this year; it’s a great year for daffodils.
The winds blew wildly last night and there was a trace of snow on the roofs and lawns this morning (quite a surprise). But I won’t despair. The blue birds are preparing their box for nesting.
And I spotted a goldfinch who’s caught the bright daffodil spirit—no more winter drab for him…
Grab your marshmellow bunnies and wash up your short sleeved shirts, friends. We’re on our way!