The Daffodil might be the perfect blooming plant. Their blooms seem designed to delight. I have loved them since I was a child, and they still continue to surprise me with their incredible variety and beauty. I wait anxiously for the pointy leaf tips to burst through the top layer of dirt in late winter. These pasts few weeks, I went back daily to watch them emerge. Since I just read Annie Dillards’s Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, I was reminded of her thoughts on growth. She talks about “the pressure of birth and growth, the pressure that splits the bark of trees and shoots out seeds.” These daffodils definitely felt the pressure to grow. The shorter, smaller, early blooming varieties are faded now, but the others are still gorgeous. Daffodils grow from underground bulbs. After the blooms fade, the leaves continue to soak up sunshine and nutrients in preparation for next year’s blooms. Finally, the leaves fade and the bulbs remain hidden underground waiting for the right cues to emerge next year and begin again. This cycle of growth, death, and renewal makes connections to many of the works we have discussed in Environmental Lit. this semester. The daffodils are a pretty example of this cycle at work.