First Daisy

Wearing my polka dot rain boots I snuggle up with anticipation to take in the unfurling of the first daisy of the season.  Standing tall in my garden, she's looking as big as a dinner plate, this daisy who's head opens in the morning and closes up again at night.  In reality, this first bloom is the size of the palm of my hand.   It's all about perspective.  As I bend over to take a photo I notice a big rain drop nearly center.  Is she crying I wonder?  Crying in joy just to be alive.  The first of her kind on this misty, rainy morning.  I look forward to the day when there are so many daisies crowded together that one is no different from the other.  And then I will witness, not without a tinge of pain, as she and her family move through the life cycle.  Wilting, returning to the earth to once again making me smile in anticipation of their cheerful appearance next year as I stare into that lemon yellow center that might be crying.  I will remember this lone daisy, perky and ready to be seen.  The first of anything is always the most difficult.  And perspective determines the size.