Years ago, I had two little snowdrop plants by my front steps. Those were my early harbingers of spring. The first appearance of the snowdrop blooms meant spring truly would come, and the world would be right.

Now, two homes later, it’s the daffodils that give my mood such a boost. Mine aren’t blooming here at the farm yet, but there’s a spot up the road a bit where conditions are just right for the earliest daffodils in the area to bloom.

The flowers are all that remain of the old home site at the next bend in our narrow road. Once upon a time, it was part of a working farm with outbuildings and gardens tended by someone who loved blooms. If you know where to look, you can still find foundation stones for some of the buildings but they’re well hidden by the maturing hardwood forest and heavy undergrowth. The flowers, though, show their noses every spring in defiance of whatever man or nature tosses their way. There are other flowers there, too, irises & daylilies, in addition to the usual hardy wildflowers that grow around here. It’s the daffodils, though, that I love most.

This roadside batch is tough. They’ve survived decades of neglect and abuse. Last year, the county added a drainage culvert to their corner and reshaped the ditch. The entire roadside, clear to the trees, was scraped to bare dirt, shaped, molded, and left to recover. The weeds came back. The ragweed thrived. Saplings sprouted forth. And this spring, the daffodils popped up and bloomed with abandon. The patch is a little thinner than before, but I suspect it’ll recover just fine.