We are knee deep in daffodils here. As the rest of the Northern Hemisphere moves on to the pink and lilac hues of the later season, we are still firmly ensconced in the bright yellow mantle of early Spring.

Daffodils are a symbol of hope and renewal - one of the first splashes of colour to appear in the garden, reminding us that life is reawakening after the Winter rest.

They were my husband’s favourite flower. He always claimed that the most important times of his life seemed to happen when the daffodils were in bloom. Career changes, passing his driving test, falling in love, getting married, moving home - all these life events were played out against a golden backdrop

When he was diagnosed with cancer, we thought he would have maybe two or three years left with us. That first autumn, I planted bulbs all over the garden, in places he would see from the window, and he talked about how many more daffodil seasons he would see. It became almost a touchstone for him.

In the end, he only saw one more daffodill time. As the little clumps of yellow, planted in hope, just a few short months earlier, began to punctuate the flower beds, I supplemented them with supermarket bunches for the house.

I found a pretty crystal vase in the charity shop, and I remember his delight when I first placed it, filled with those shop blooms, on the table by his chair. Just a simple thing, but it brought a moment of joy and light into those dark times.

Six daffodil seasons have rolled around since then, and many more bulbs have been planted around the garden and on the verge outside the gate. I even have a cutting bed, specifically for the house, although there are many wind casualties that find their way inside too. I think it’s fair to say I am now self-sufficient in daffodils.

And as I go around, gathering extravagant armfuls to fill vases around the house, I feel privileged to enjoy such an abundance of beauty. If, as Wordsworth wrote:

One daffodil is worth a thousand pleasures…

then I am rich indeed.

The Romans apparently planted daffodils in remembrance of loved ones, and it’s easy to see why. Their cheerful resilience is the epitome of hope emerging from the dark. A signal that life continues and expands. But still, that first bouquet of the year is always placed in that crystal vase; I see the beauty and simplicity - and I remember John.