Instant transport. Every time. 4-9-2021 |
| There just something about yellow daffodils in a cobalt blue vase. They bring me back to long-ago days. Golden bells ring memories forward. They still make me smile. Memories . . . of running through a meadow blooming with uncountable numbers of daffodils, nodding and swaying in the breeze. My grandmother always said it was a sight like this that inspired the waltz of the flowers. of climbing up to my favorite branch in the old maple tree, resting on that bough, totally hidden, reading my newest library book. of helping my grandmother bake oatmeal raisin cookies to take on canoe adventures to the Little Island where every trip was a journey to an unknown land. of early mornings sitting at the end of the dock, feet swinging, watching spirals of mist while we breaded hooks to fish for sunnies for breakfast. of long, lazy evenings that stretched to forever, drinking iced lemonade watching the fireflies come out to dance with the stars. There just something about yellow daffodils in a cobalt blue vase. They always bring me home. |