My mother-in-law brought me the most beautiful bouquet of daffodils from our Farmer’s Market. We have some growing in our yard that the former owners must have planted and give us a beautiful shock of yellow each year. But I can’t see them. At least their size and distance from the house means that I will have to safely venture into our uneven yard somehow to see them up close. I suppose we can mark this as springtime. Springtime feels different now. But it is unmistakably warmer. I will try to count this as luck, the good luck of being able to experience a new season.