Daffodils in memory of Hilda Mary Gibson Nee Fishwick 7/1/1924 – 3/1/2015

Spring is on its way and every March when the daffodils start to raise their sunny heads, I get a lump in my throat because they remind me so much of my Mum.  I don’t know if other cities are the same, but all over North Leeds where I live, there appear thousands upon thousand of daffodils – everywhere.  At the side of the ring road and other major roads, on roundabouts, in church yards, on verges, open areas of grass and in patches in the most unlikely places.  Mum and Dad used to travel over to see us, from Southport, a town known for its flowers but Mum \used to wax lyrical about our daffodil displays.  I can hear here now!

Below are photos of Adel church – a beautiful area to sit and just contemplate.

I once had a boss who said she hated yellow and daffodils – would never dream of wearing yellow or buying any yellow flowers!  It has to be said she was a massive snob, so probably thought they were cheap, bright, bold and in  your face.  Could be me that!!! haha.  Probably why we always clashed.  I was always being called a “bold child” by a nun at my convent boarding school because I was always questioning things.  As I sit and type this, I have a T shirt on with big bold, bright yellow daisies.

 

And here are photos of daffodils by the side of the road and on verges next to pavements.  Happy days MUM. XXXX