There Will Always Be Daffodils

After a week on the market, an offer for the asking price was accepted on the house my grandfather built. A lot of wheels have to turn before it is a done deal. Sometimes the wheels can fall off. It is certainly a good start.

The daffodils that survived the polar blast are coming into bloom. These are generally the later blooming varieties by habit. Micro-climate conditions spared some others. The damage was primarily loss of bloom. Foliage was burnt, but enough was left for the bulbs to grow and store energy for next year.

There are too many populations of minor bulbs living on the mountain to count. They were not so far along in growth and buried safely beneath the snow when the bitter cold struck. In the absence of mass daffodils their presence is more pronounced.

The earliest trilliums have risen.

Selling my mother's 100 year old house is just step one. We have to buy her a new house closer to one of her other children and move her into it. I told her we can plant southern bulbs like Rain Lily and Ipheion in the lawn.

One patch of the trumpet daffodils survived to bloom.

There are some trilliums that have been multiplying like the minor bulbs. I like that.

There will always be daffodils. One hundred years from now, people may still come to see the bulbs my mother planted.