Garbo and I walked outside this morning just as the sun was cresting the horizon. The air was filled with joyous birdsong. Then, as I rounded the corner of the front walk I saw my first daffodil of the season. Not the first daffodil, they have been all over the neighborhood, but the first daffodil blossoming in my yard.
I was elated.
I didn’t spend any time in the garden in 2025 due to back and leg muscle issues, a fall, and other things. In fact it has been over a year since I’ve been up to garden work, and it thrills me no end to see that anything survives my neglect.
Oh, I came home from Texas in late February to find the camellias in bloom. They are still in bloom. I can count on them beginning in late February. And the hellebores have been out for a few weeks as well.
But the first daffodils are harbingers of hope. I am behind. I am always behind but there is also always hope. Sometimes I just need to be reminded. The small joys are often the best joys anyway.