The thing you cannot name is the truth. ~The Tao
The daffodils showed up in my garden just a little late, and the experience of them lingers delightfully, although the blooms are gone. How can they be that soft, that easily injured, yet support the jaunty, trumpet-shaped corona, at once sturdy and delicate? I’ve been known to lose count of the number of shades of yellow inside a particular flower. The subtle variation among fragrances is delicious. I could look at a single daffodil f...
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