A wicker basket sits near the back door, now just a memory of a time and place when it once held armfuls of bright yellow daffodils gathered at Cane Island.
…..” the daffodil comes, not only before the swallow comes, but before all the many flowers of summer; it comes on the heels of a flowerless winter, Yes, a favorite flower must be a spring flower.” A.A. Milne
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