Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

We drove to one of my favorite gardens today, because I told my husband I wanted a hit of beauty.  Lots of daffodils were blossoming, though the big fields of daffodils are not out yet.  The fruit trees had buds and some magnolia trees were blooming.  There are the traditional yellow daffodils, but also ones with white outer petals and yellow centers, all white daffodils, ones with orange centers, tiny daffodils, every variety you can imagine.  They are in pots arranged by statues or benches, along walkways, and also in the fields between and among the fruit trees.  There were also pansies, and Iperions and azaleas and camelias.  It was cold and I was touched by the bravery of pushing up through the cold hard ground to burst forth in riotous glory in colors of the sun.  Daffodils are my favorite flower, especially growing up in Virginia, but also because when I was a teenager in California, my Methodist Youth Group took a ski trip to Tahoe, and spent the night in a church on the way up and back.  It was near Easter, and the chapel was flooded with daffodils, with their tart scent of spring.  That smell will be with me always.