The other day I walked to the top of a high hill overlooking the Missouri River valley below — a gorgeous panorama on a warm spring afternoon.
Below my feet, a sharp hillside fell toward a pair of railroad tracks at the bottom of a rock bluff, and on the far side of the tracks, the river flowed toward the east.
There, hidden behind the guard rail, I saw my own “host of golden daffodils,” growing in huge clumps, nestled among the rocks and weeds
As I watched them, their bright blonde heads bobbing in the breeze, dancing and moving where the wind took them, I realized daffodils in the spring had a lot to teach me.
Daffodils know how to wait for the warmer weather, because it will come…eventually. This year it’s been a long, cold spring, and the daffodils had their green leaves and bud above ground for a long time, waiting for a few warm days to sign it’s time to bloom.
And bloom they have. It’s been glorious,and definitely worth waiting for.
So often we get impatient, thinking that just because something hasn’t happened “yet” that it won’t happen ever. Sometimes spring arrives early, sometimes it’s a late. Sometimes the world is in full bloom all at once, sometimes it’s a long, slow green-up.
But don’t worry — spring always comes.
Because even when you do wait, it’s no guarantee the weather won’t turn cold for a day or two.
Daffodils know spring weather is just like life — unpredictable. They don’t flatten in the first strong wind. They don’t keel over at the first sign of frost. A couple of weeks ago, the first of the daffodils were up, and the overnight lows got down into the 20s, but they shrugged off the cold and kept to their work.
If you want to accomplish anything, embrace your inner daffodil. Be hardy.
Commit to making your corner of the world beautiful, regardless of how rocky and treacherous it may seem.
Looking at these clumps of daffodils on this steep, steep hill, I wondered who had planted them there. Did they plant them? Or did this gardener just toss a bunch of bulbs down the hill and hope for the best?
Either way, the flowers could care less. Their bulbs took root, and they’ve bloomed where they were planted.
Turn your face toward the sun and soak in the feel of springtime today — it might be cloudy tomorrow.
Spring flowers often close up at night, protecting themselves from the cold, but come the morning, the blooms are back open, looking skyward, being warmed by the sunshine.
Regardless of where you live, there are only so many sunny days. Best make hay while the sun shines. Enjoy the clear skies, smooth sailing, and good times while they’re here, because it might be rainy and overcast in the days ahead. Might as well take advantage of this opportunity to make a sunshiny memory.
And if you remember William Wordworth’s tribute to daffodils “I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud” — here’s a link.