One of the most welcome sights every Spring are the yummy yellow daffodils scattered about. There they are in yards, along driveways, roadways, in pots, planters and even in the grocery stores. Who among us can resist buying a bunch?
Their faithful appearance every year is a most hopeful sign Winter (that never seemed to end this year) is soon to be finally over. I would go so far as to say, life affirming is the sight. Because, for just a moment you smile and want to thank the gardener for thinking ahead to plant the bulbs. A bright moment in ones day as you feast your eyes upon them. Maybe you try to go by the locations you discovered them….again and again. The yummy yellow daffodils, alas, are not in bloom for very long so enjoy and take in the wonder of them as oft as you can.
“Daffodils”, the poem by William Wordsworth, sums up many of my thoughts about the delicious flower. Therein he captures the beauty and “gay” feeling that comes with gazing upon them. It is short poem, but well worth reading again or for the first time maybe. I wonder, did he write the poem by Rydal Mount, his home in Grasmere, England? Did he have a garden filled with daffodils or scattered about on the vast property? Did he pass a patch of them in someones garden? Actually, it is believed that his inspiration was from a walk he and his wife Dorothy took on April 15, 1802 along the shore of Glencoyne Bay, Ullswater on their way back to Grasmere. Dorothy wrote about the encountering the mass of daffodils in her journal on that day.
Spring….the beginning, full of hope, time to create your little garden or just one pot for the window and feel good about yourself for doing so. Maybe such efforts will bring a smile to a passerby. Paying it forward to anothers’ sense of well being.
ebuvette………here’s why I love the moniker.
I didn’t speak very much French way back when (still don’t). It was my first year visiting the Cote d’Azur and I, with my new friends, walked down from the old town into the square in front of the cathedral in Menton, France. Above a store, carved deeply in the stone, was the word Buvette. I said, Oh, is that the name of the owner? You see my confusion. Buvette sounded like, to me the uninformed, Colette or Babette, both girl’s names,
Looks of surprise all round. “Mais Non!” A buvette is a store that sells drinks, coffee, refreshments etc. (originally it started out as selling just refreshments) When I first saw it, it sold grocery items as well making it an epicerie too. So you could have a coffee and buy a box sugar, etc. Very handy location. It saved a heart stopping walk back up from town for just a few items.
Now, on the little terrace adjacent to the shop, is where the Prince of Monaco sits when there is an evening concert in front of the cathedral. Concerts are held in the summer. They are very fancy affairs, especially when the Prince is there.
A dear friend gave me the name “madame snack-cart”. I have since taken the French version…..of course.
The sound of silence is deafening. Silence is best used when what you could say would turn out to be awkward or unfortunate; when in actual fact you want/could verbally decimate the person in front of you….your Silence speaks volumes. Silence can wash over you when alone and make you feel desolate. Silence can be a respite from the cacophony of life……. to be embraced.
If you are among those of us in literally mountains of snow, where would you put yourself? Just for a couple days; maybe this weekend….a long weekend! This is where I would like to be……a cafe, a croissant, the sea to my right and the sun overhead. Of course I can’t be there. I have shoveling to do, like today and another round is coming. C’est la vie.
The sight of the majestic ancient olive tree, always takes my breath away. Even manipulated, they are stunning.
But why manipulate the photo….just because I found an amazing app.