Get In Line
I didn’t see it at first, the tiny sprout peeking up under the daffodils sunny gaze. The green shoot in the dark soil surrounded by the late March snow. The yellow blossom with its own snowy cape leaning down as though to shelter its tender cousin.
(Special guest Wendy Sarno has gifted us with today’s post. Thank you, Wendy.) Kathleen Martin on April 2nd, 2011 | File Under Guest | 6 Comments -
April 3rd, 2011 at 11:08 am
Windy, the image does indeed speak the words you have given. This is another one of those transition reminders. Each season can begin to feel a bit routine after a while, but never those moments in which we feel the seasons shifting. Thank you for sharing such a moment with us.
April 3rd, 2011 at 11:25 am
This is so beautiful!!! Isn’t it great that we can grow to a place of fruition, die and then come back to bloom again. I have fifty seed growing germinating in my house for a garden we have at my work. I can hardly wait until they start sprouting. this is my first true attempt to garden from seeds. J
April 4th, 2011 at 3:41 pm
Wendy, what an exquisite image and beautiful words to accompany it. I am struck with the apparent weight of the snow and ice resting upon the bloom, but the daffodil’s staying power, despite the “burden”. The fact that you saw the “leaning” daffodil as sheltering the tiny shoot is beautiful. I am left to ponder the philosophical implications of a weight or burden (as I saw it) resulting in a sheltering. A fitting image for me to see today. Thank you.
April 4th, 2011 at 6:22 pm
Wendy, Welcome! And what a beautiful entry for all of us to enjoy and think about. I love the umbrella effect of the daffodil and I like Ellen’s comment about the weight and sheltering. Indeed, something to think about.
April 11th, 2011 at 7:38 am
Greetings Wendy, and welcome! I loved this image and post – there is such tenderness in your early springtime image, and there is patience and courage too. Your snow wrapped daffodil is leaning over the tiny earth bound sprout protectively, and as if she is its mother. Powerful and thoughtful too…
April 11th, 2011 at 9:20 am
My goodness, thank you all so much for your wonderful comments. I love all your inspiration with photos and flowers. I’ve been out this morning trying to capture the dogwood blossoms in the rain. Maybe I got them a little: listeningtostones.wordpress.com.