A favorite place of ours is in the middle of nowhere, on the back side of a hay field. Every year, hundreds of daffodils rise in this unsuspecting location to show their beauty. Once upon a time, there was a house here. It is now long gone and little remains of the home site except the flower bulbs.
We began taking our boys here when they were tiny. They loved to pick as many flowers as they could hold. Their chubby fists would gladly bring me their prizes. Now that they are a little older, they aren’t quite as interested in flower picking. They still enjoy making the special trip, though.
A lot of sweet memories have been made by our family in this flower patch over the years. When I’m there, I often wonder about the people who built their home in this location, probably over a hundred years ago. Limestone foundation stones still remain, peeking out underneath the blooms. What were their lives like? I know from where the property is located that they must have lived fairly isolated lives. Perhaps a woman in the family planted a few daffodil bulbs. Maybe they were given to her by a distant neighbor or a visiting relative. Or maybe a young boy planted them for his sister. Whoever planted the bulbs probably never imagined an unkown family enjoying their large flower patch. I doubt I will ever know the answers to my questions of how these beauties were introduced to the field. But, I do know there is a lot to be said for planting and growing, especially when the future is uncertain.
Thanks for reading,