even told the golden daffodils

Beautiful days create contemplative thoughts- indulge me.

Ever since i have lived in this house (or converted trailer-which ever way you want to look it), I have noticed that these beautiful daffodils come up in the backyard every March like clockwork. I rarely go into the backyard, especally in March when it's still a little chilly out, but today I wandered back there for a moment and there they were, just like last year. And whether I, or anyone else, had noticed them or not, they'd be there- despite the weather, despite where they were planted, despite anyone's apathy or dislike of daffodils, they'd be there. And they'd be beautiful, a reflection of God's masterful craftmanship, unassuming, humble, just sitting against a rusty wire fence amongst the weeds and old leaves. They don't care if anyone notices their glory; if anyone hears and admires their enlightened thoughts or insightful secrets. They don't fake who they are. They just are, quietly biding their time, boldly serving their purpose, and whole-heartedly giving their all.

That's all.