Lest we forget the daffodil. (Click picture for larger view)
"The Bee is not afraid of me.They left too soon; these asphodel, these daffodil. I miss their trumpets of gold, cream, peach and white; translucent and lacy as they grew wild on the river banks or sedate and calm in the flowerbed. They gave us the sun when the March days were still cold and gray, before the warmth of Spring. They gave us color before the explosion of reds and blues and pinks and purples that heralded April. As quickly as they bloomed, they quietly left; staying only as long as they were needed; leaving only the memory of their light in our eyes.
I know the Butterfly.
The pretty people in the Woods
Receive me cordially --
The Brooks laugh louder when I come --
The Breezes madder play;
Wherefore mine eye thy silver mists,
Wherefore, Oh Summer's Day?"
~ Emily Dickinson
(end of post)