Yesterday, I posted a picture of a flower that really reflected my current feelings about the universe in general. Somebody's Mother said that sometimes those flowers just perk right up the next day. I was intrigued by this idea. Could a frozen, smushed, defeated flower be back tomorrow to fight again?
I opened the door this morning:
The flower was gone, a victim of a freak mid-April snowstorm that dumped at least half a foot of snow in the path of everything anyone was trying to accomplish.
Trees were covered.
Some trees are a lost cause.
This evening, as I ate dinner with my family, I lamented over the lost flower, which would certainly be a victim of snow or an aggressive shovel or snow blower.
Somebody's Mother told me that, although the flower had been buried under a pile of snow, it was still intact.
I went to inspect, and sure enough, it's still there.
Sometimes, even snow and tools and all the harshness in the world can't keep a daffodil down. At least for today, it's still hanging in there.
3 comments:
Go flower...Go! It is nice that the good thing can survive the harshness, sometimes. It helps me make it through the though days.
"Daffodils" (1804)
I WANDER'D 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 stretch'd 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.
By William Wordsworth (1770-1850)
August - Graduation Party - We will dance with the daffodils!!!
Hunkered down for the storm, but gets through it. Nice!
And a wonderful poem from Karry. I love that one. :-)
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