BEDA: Daffodil

I'm running on chopped up, five hours of sleep for the last 24 hours.

Initiate BEDA.

Today I was walking around Boston, and as the spring wind tousled my hair, I watched the culture around me.  The gawky nineteen year old, with headphones under his designer hoody who walks in a straight line to nowhere.  The couple on the stairs, holding hands at dusk.  The grass is finally getting greener now that winter's over, but only in splotches.  But the thing was, even through all this early springtime wonder, there was a daffodil laying on the grass.  As if someone left it there, in memory, in forgetfulness, but in absolute certainty that it should be there.  I don't know if this makes sense, because it's late, but in that yellow daffodil, on the greening earth, I saw beauty in its rarest and truest form.  My only regret is that I didn't take a picture of it.