A year ago tomorrow I made a post about my great grandma. It was spring time and I was at Conserve School spending glorious afternoons outside water coloring and drawing what was blooming around us. One of those things was a simple yellow flower. A yellow flower that began as a bulb…got touched and cared for by the soil around…and had since developed and greeted me every morning. Now this beautiful little flower was my next creative project. With just a few simple colors and an afternoon of sun I set off to create the work.
It wasn’t until I sat back after completing my work that I realized something. Great Grandma. Great Grandma’s daffodils. After she passed in the very early spring that is what we gave them out at her funeral. Starting just that afternoon, friends of ours put those little bulbs into the ground. Just a few days later I returned back to my school to the wonderful site of plants pushing through the ground. And then, that takes us to sitting on the ground and painting this flower. I realized that I was painting great grandma’s daffodils.
Later that night I had the extreme pleasure of watching the sunset with a dear friend.
The sun on those evenings touched your skin as the air got just the tiniest bit chilly. Daffodil yellow. Loon greeting calls. Barely lapping water. Those are the evenings I love, these are the evenings I love. It’s great grandma’s daffodils… the seed to apple tree.