"... she looked quickly at the little golden-brown pottery jug which stood at the end of the librarian's desk. It was a season indicator. ... And today, on this summer Saturday in 1912, what was the bowl holding? She moved her eyes slowly up the jug past the thin green stems and little round leaves and saw... nasturtiums!"

The moment we walked up the stairs to view our new home, I spotted what would eventually be my season indicator...

After reading about the simple indicator of time in the American classic about a young girl coming of age...

the empty basket just screamed out for a purpose...
and since daffodils were growing everywhere, on every hillside, and every unused patch of ground throughout Aberdeen ...

when we arrived...

even in my own garden a few weeks later...

it was only natural that the indicator of a new season, which for us was more than just Spring, would be daffodils...


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