First Day of Spring

Golden trumpet swaying in the wind
Back turned against the bitter chill
The trusty herald greets the spring
O Valiant little daffodil

The weather was chilly but sunny today so I spent a couple of hours in the garden clearing paths and generally tidying, armed too with my trusty pruners to seek out and destroy the relentless bramble that seems to thrive,no matter what I do. It was when I reached a sheltered part of the garden that I found them, not a host as Wordsworth would say , but a small gathering of the first daffodils; enough to make me think of poetry and spring. Well, its official now, 21st March is the spring equinox; (a whole bunch of folklore and mythology there), but its daffodils in bloom that confirms it, for me and, well, according to Greek myth too.

It is said that Persephone was picking daffodils when she was kidnapped by Hades and taken to the Underworld. And that's what started the whole winter thing. Her mother, Demeter, was so angry about the abduction that she withdrew into loneliness and refused to let anything grow - winter began. It was only when Persephone was allowed to return to her mother for two-thirds of the year (Hades' dastardly pomegranate trick) that Demeter relented allowing the earth to become fertile once more. Thus, the daffodils in bloom again symolizes the end of winter and the beginning of spring.

I think I prefer this myth to that of Narcissus' impossible love because it is a tale of rejoicing and renewal and isn't daffodil a trumpeter, a happy little flower to herald the spring?