Easter daffodils from my neighbor.
A kind gesture to acknowledge our twenty-two years of shared proximity and also of friendship. I don’t recall ever noticing that this particular flower has such a delicate fragrance. Can you imagine what an entire field of them must smell like? Heavenly I suppose.
Wordsworth wrote the following description in 1804 upon discovering a large bank of dancing daffodils:
“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.”
This gift of a small bunch of golden beauties had been set in a vase at my doorstep—petals unopened as if in anticipation of a great event. To awaken this morning to their ruffled regalia and fragrant voice was as if they themselves had risen on this glorious Easter morning. A beautiful symbol of a life altering event in heaven above and earth below. He is risen. He is risen indeed.
Blessed Easter wherever you are!
