In front of my school, two simple daffodils have blossomed among the wood chips. I really enjoy daffodils. They mean so much. Most people associate tulips with the coming of spring but the daffodil is the big sister to the tulip who shows up a little earlier to make sure it is safe for the tulips to come out.
I think my love of the daffodil developed in the spring of 2003. I had spent the last school year commuting thirty minutes each way from one Iowa town to another. I was never a person who hated the commute, but I would tend to lose time during the commute. I would get into my car and before I knew it, I would be pulling into my parking lot, not realizing where the last thirty minutes had gone.
I realized that I needed some benchmarks along the way home to take note of my time. Or at the very least, an inner dialogue with myself.
"Oh, the horses are out today. Oh, they really like each other today."
"I wish that ice cream shop was open all year round."
"Is that a deer ahead or is that just a really big dog?"
About ten minutes before I reached home, I would drive by this sprawling farm that had the most beautiful driveway. Most people can't appreciate a beautiful driveway, but on each side of the gravel path, daffodils would bloom. At first, it was just a few and in the coming week, the driveway was lined with a stream of yellow. Although the daffodil season was short, the driveway didn't disappoint. After the daffodils, the tulips came. After the tulips, the variety of summer blooms. The driveway became the last benchmark before I would reach home.
The two little daffodils at school did not compare to the huge lot of daffodils that lined that country drive, but it made me think of Iowa, spring, and how life should have little benchmarks to make us remember and think about where we are going.