This is how a daffodil bed looks with straw used as mulch and ready for the long winter. Not much to look at now, but only think, three more months until daffodil blooming time.
Daffodil Patch Christmas.
(Hummed to the tune of the Night Before Christmas. LOL)
Have your daffodils been good? You've snuggled them all nice and warm into their mulched beds and flushed out the deer. Now only waiting for Santa to bring cheer. My daffodils were extremely generous bringing me many ribbons of blue, as well as red, and yellow and white. It was a good year in the daffodil patch to rejoice and take in the holiday season, a memory that I will hold tight.
The home place is all decorated with the white and reds that represent the Christmas colors. All the trees around the daffodil patch have shed their leaves and tucked themselves in for the winter ahead and the cold that follows. There are those that say that the daffodil patch is nothing for Christmas but dismal grey. But they are not the daffo-holics that say, it's only three more months before the color of yellow comes back our way.
The silver crystals we see are formed from ice on the tree's branchs and shimmers in the breeze as they catch the light. The icycles are real, not the fake ones like on the Mall Christmas trees at night. The gold is from the last of the leaves that fell and were formed by the wind into Garlands along the edges of the garden. Soon, we say in our minds, green will replace the drab and bring cheer to those delights that we are guardin'.
The blessing of the snow insures that daffodils will grow and bloom come spring. The snow blesses us with water that makes it gleam.
Me? I'm all snuggled up in my easy chair in front of the fireplace enjoying it's warmth from the pot-belly stove. The delicate aromas of Christmas are floating though the house, as Fran and I prepare for our feast it is as quiet as a mouse. She does the sweets, and I do the turkey and we all eat. While waiting for the turkey to roast, I sit and browse the new daffodil catalogs from "down under." With exotic names like Christ Church, New Zealand, and Tasmania the home of the "Tasmanian Tiger," and the many generations of Jacksons doing their hybridizing of the exotic daffodil, I wonder. I look through the Daffodil Journal and read the latest offering by it's editor, Bill Lee. I see the beauty of the flowers at our cottage in the spring by the sea.
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