There's going to be a time when you won't see another daffodil.
In the village, beyond the primary school, is a bank of grass that I run beside most weeks. Every Spring it fills first with fat leaves and then the heavy trumpets of daffodils. Pick the right bright day and they shine with yellow and orange. In a breeze, their heads bob and sway. It's a beautiful sight, a sign that warmer, longer days are on the horizon. That better things are to come.
But many times I've run past. Or walked to my car with you and just given them a cursory glance. I've seen them but not noticed them. I tell myself I'll stop and look more properly at them 'later'.
Before I know it, the petals have softened, starting to brown at the edges. Lost their prime, begun to wilt. Past their best. The display is over, for another year.
Too late to enjoy them. I've missed it. That beautiful fleeting moment I promised myself 'later' has been taken away from me again. For what?
What is wrong with us that we put off noticing? That we can't stop and look at a host of golden daffodils. That we tell ourselves that doing this is unimportant, is inefficient, has no practical value, can wait, can be done later.
If you do one thing in the spring do this. Don't walk past. Don't keep putting off taking a moment to fully appreciate these beautiful blooms till later.
One day, later will be too late.