Noticed first, down right of my feet. Lifting low out of the ground at the corner, where the bottom step meets three ways with grass and cement. The yellow was fearless, backed by a strong green. It was a cold morning. Of the type where waking minutes are spent quietly immobile on the porch steps as sleep and tension wash off. Towards the evening Tanya came to visit with daffodils wanting a vase, an old bluegreen jar half full nicely on the table.