Southern Girl...Southern World

My daffodils have arisen too early this year. I don't think they'll make it through the winter, if winter ever comes. Of some consolation is that the Wordsworths (both William and Dorothy) have done their part to immortalize them in a way that I can't. I hated and mocked this poem in high school; it was much too hopeful for my adolescent languor...

"For oft when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude,
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the Daffodils." --William Wordsworth

But, of course, that lack of reverence existed before I had parted the soil with my own hands, buried the bulbs, watched the yellow flowers break back open the earth, and wave to me from my driveway as I left and returned home. Fortunately, the flowers aren't the only things growing with the seasons.