Daffodils Bring the Spring

Daffodils remind me of my early childhood. There used to sit a garden on the corner of the road between my home and my first primary school that displayed an array of the flowers. Some yellow-on-yellow, some yellow-on-white, some orange-on-yellow... On those crisp, bright mornings that an English spring offers so often, they would dance happily. Or so it seemed.

Later, arriving at school, I could see that they formed order on the grass bank in the playground, but in happy order! Dancing together. But sometimes they would also be our audience and cheer because we had friendly games competitions amongst school friends. Cheer for the winner! Cheer for the loser! Cheer for everybody in between!

And that's the thing about daffodils. They are so sunny and reliable and inoffensive to everybody that I see no way that they can provide anything but pleasure to all. When I think of daffodils I think of times free from worry and responsibility; I can hear children playing in the playground as the sun shines, and the sound of a neighbour to the school mowing their lawn. I think of the local white and tortoiseshell cat that would hop over the school fence and seek affection. And I think of the ever-patient and protective dinner ladies who would oversee our play and safety.

Somehow the flowers represent hope. They offer you moments of joy by standing so upright and by smiling so reliably. The small yellow daffodils that now sit in our kitchen offer comfort, and brief interludes of how it was to dance with the daffodils.