With a glow and irridescence that nothing man made can possibly match, the blossoms sway in the breeze of an approaching spring storm, oblivious to the changing day, determined to stand tall and do their dance.
. . . from the pages of a 1920 book
Who passes down the wintry street?
Hey, ho, daffodil!
A sudden flame of gold and sweet.
Inside the book is a heartfelt inscription, I was inspired to play with some paper and paint .
A watercolor I found at a Brocante in France, I instantly loved the vintage patina it had acquired,
even the spots of mildew in the background
I have a friend who collects different varieties for her garden,
and the result is an explosion of cheerful spring fireworks every year.
The last time I visited her she opened her refrigerator to show me that it was filled with individual cut flowers, each in it's own little jar of water. It was her way of extending the pleasure!
I'm grateful for the color, for the gaiety,
for the beginning of a new season .
Like a chorus of tiny trumpets, daffodils are announcing the joy that is unfolding once again!