March Musing - Daffodils

 

Narcissus pseudonarcissus in a Cumbrian churchyard -13/03/2014

"At first, you can hardly see them : slim, green tips barely distinguishable from the dew-drenched grass. Some, it's true,  are not so slim - here and there are pale swellings, hardly enough to alter the outline but firmer somehow and more promising. Day by day they become less reticent, and though, some stay hidden amongst the clumps of chaotic dead grass, others stand tall and straight ready to meet the sun when it may choose to appear. Their heads begin to tilt, as if still too shy to look at you straight in the eye, but almost at once their astonishing secret is out in a flash of yellow and a silent, spectacular chorus of trumpets. Daffodils herald the spring with vim and verve, seizing the limelight from the more diminutive earlier risers. Brighter than snowdrops, taller than celandines or aconites daffodils instantly command attention ...... only prolonged falls of heavy snow can utterly defeat a company of daffodils: when the sun returns and the ice retreats the yellow stars will generally be out again. Daffodils upright and bright, seem invigorated by seasonal setbacks.

'The Daffodil Fairy' by Cicely Mary Barker.

Just as it seems that it will never be light or warm again, huge teams appear in their high vis-jackets to rescue us from the effects of a prolonged winter. In villages across Britain, worn-out verges begin to gleam with scattered daffodils in early spring to , until the roadside is ablaze in a luminous citric glow, often outshining the sparse street lights.

A few of my own daffodils, March 2016.

As the chilly dawn begins to break a little earlier, these seasonal signs reminds yawning drivers and shivering teenagers that things are not, after all quite as dark as they have been and that brighter days are coming.

~ an extract from ' The Brief Life of Flowers' by Fiona Stafford,  which is well worth a read, revealing how even the most ordinary flowers have extraordinary stories to tell.