Recently, when I went on my hometown (Hope, AR) newspaper website, I saw the beautiful spring flower, Jonquil. They are so similar to and remind me of the daffodil - my favorite flower.
By the way, you may have noticed that instead of a photo, my blog contains the daffodil. For some unknown reason, I just love flowers and daffodils in particular. I guess God knew I would, so each year, He sprinkled daffodil seeds all up and down the road in front of our house. The first time I saw those pretty, deep-yellow blossoms swaying in the early springtime breeze, I ran down the road for a closer inspection. Then, I picked every flower in my sight. It was my "early bird catches the worm deal." Now, I can't remember if there were other girls who picked road-side flowers, but I certainly did. I have always and still do love flowers perhaps more than anything.
After I had gathered my fresh-cut, sweet smelling bouquets of blooms, I hurried home to look for something to put them in.
Now, we poor, country folks had never heard of or seen a vase - at least, I hadn't. Our containers were crude versions of modern-day vases - old cans, fruit jars, buckets, and anything that would hold water for flowers. When I had stripped the ditches of their pretty flowers, I put them in whatever "holders" I found and set them across the long porch that ran the length of our house. I can still see it now. Bright rows of deep yellow trumpet daffodils. What a sight!
Since I got grown, I have not been to my hometown in springtime, but during this lovely season, in my heart I go there for my personal "Festival of the Daffodils."
As an afterthought, I never realized that other people (especially passersby) might enjoy the beauty of the roadside panorama, but in my childish mind, I only thought of myself and what I liked. Sorry neighbors if I deprived you of your "daffodil moments."