Daffodils are my favorite flower of all time. I believe it comes from when I was younger and my Nana would plant flowers and tend to the garden. I often remember the moments she would let me get my hands dirty in the soil and play with the worms. I was a bit of a tomboy as a small child and didn’t mind getting my hands dirty or working up a sweat, or even getting my head stuck between the oil tank and chimney when I was 7 lol. Yes I alone gave my mother agida of 10 boys lol.
I also have a love of daffodils because they were the first few buds and signs of spring after wet, cold winters and to me it was a sign of a birthday present from the earth. My birthday is March 1st and it’s often cold, dark and snow covered so by the time mid to late March arrives, I would start singing because that meant the nicer weather was on it’s way and I could go out and play in the dirt with my Nana. She would often go out into the yard and pull a few buds to bring in the house just for me.
As I’ve grown older, they signify fond memories of digging in the dirt, signs of spring eternal. More importantly, or more deeply they are a reflection of life going on in the midst of harsh cold winters or personal struggles, determination in moving on when things seem tough, beauty in their simplicity, and that year after year in the same location so many years ago, these beautiful beauties still continue to bloom even if I don’t get my hands dirty in the dirt.