My daffodils started coming up in January. That’s early for here. Normally it’s late February or early March. But up they came. Little soldiers announcing spring will be coming.
Then we got snow in mid-February and there were my daffodils. I didn’t think to cover or insulate them until it was 8 inches too late. Alas. But they seem to have survived.
One lone daffodil was bent after the snow melted away. It’s hard to say if it was the weight of the snow, an errant snowball, or a boot that did the damage. Either way this one now has a right angle mid stem and instead of pointing up it is facing down.
This lone daffodil has persevered in its drive to bloom and be seen. Even though it’s early. Even though it’s pointing down. Even though no one else is blooming yet.
It bloomed. Bright yellow unfurling and announcing its presence. I am daffodil. I am here. I will bloom.
I love this little daffodil. I am cheering for this little daffodil. I want it to succeed.
If I were my own best friend I would remind myself to be the daffodil. Bloom when I’m ready. Bloom even if it’s not quite the right season. Bloom even if I’m facing the wrong way. Bloom even if I’m damaged. Bloom.
And then see what magic unfolds when you bloom as you are.