Tig Dupre on fri 26 mar 04
Susan,
So many thanks for the kind and beautiful words. The images I got while reading your post brought back many pleasant memories. I spent some of my formative years on a farm in Maryland where my grandfather retired to. His hobbies were oysters and daffys. Every Spring, the six-mile-long dirt road from the highway to the house would be lined with hundreds of thousands of small yellow trumpets, heralding the arrival of the new growing season. People would come from as far away as Texas to see the "The Blooming," as they called it.
And I know the smell on the wind you spoke of. I learned it from generations of Navy men, and Maryland Watermen, who taught me to "read water." It is the exciting, quickening, earthy odor of rebirth, of fruitfulness, of promise. It is the return of the Sun after long periods of darkness. It is hope and warmth. It is Spring!
When the first daffys poked up at Jubilee, my grandmother would carefully harvest several every day, and place them in a Chinese vase on the dining room table, in front of the window that looked out on the river. The afternoon sun shining through the yellow translucent petals is one of my favorite colors.
I think I'll try to make that one...
Thanks again, Susan. I'm so glad you enjoy the bowl.
Tig
in Port Orchard, WA
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