Daffodils

I looked over the side of the balcony and Rebecca has a whole garden bed of daffodils blooming, some of the stocks so heavy with their burst of yellow ruffled skirt sthat they bend down to the earth.

Other stalks are still in bud.

I determined to be the one who picked flowers this year, to enjoy sliding my finger down the long green stem to the bottom of the plant and then carefully snipping it off with my scissors, right at the bottom, trying not to damage the leaves.

I was stretching one after another out that I had picked, first leaving them in the garden bed, and then alongside me on the grass, until I had half of the bed of blossoms cut. 

Leaving some for another day I returned to the house to put two dozen daffodils in a 1 quart mason jar filled with water.

“I'm sorry Rebecca I couldn't find a better vase.”

“Don't worry. In Better Homes and Gardens they might display flowers in a mason jar just as you have done. We'll leave it at that.  I do have a vase, but it is in the back corner of a bottom shelf and we would have to move so much to get at it.”

Last night I could smell the redolent fragrance of the daffodils since they had warmed up to the temperature of the house. 

Someone who has allergies is eventually going to smell that. 

We'll have to put them in a different spot, but for now I'm really enjoying the beauty and their closeness.

Arta