Two stalks of daisies

I rank one day in Switzerland as one of the most beautiful days in my life. It wasn't a perfect day or anything, the kind that comes with crystal blue skies and cool breezes and warming sunshine. It was foggy and dampish - the wrong kind of day for Vinay, my travelling companion, and I to go up Mt Schilthorn to see the view from the top. But our schedule was tight, so up we went on the funicular to a halfway-point village called Murren, and then on to Schilthorn itself. Fortunately for us, the fog hung way below Schilthorn's peak at Lauterbrunnen and Murren's level, so we got our view of heavenly skies and glistening white peaks.

But that's not what most makes that day memorable for me. We came back down from Schilthorn at around 7 p.m. and looked around for a place to stay in Murren, only to find the place too expensive. Some shopkeepers directed us to another village about half an hour downhill by foot called Gimmelwald, where there was a youth hostel. The fog was lifting by the time Vinay and I started our walk down from Murren to Gimmelwald. No hyperbole can do justice to that half-hour trek.

Our road from Murren led to a narrow path that had us walking on the mountainside - valley on one hand and the mountain itself rising on the other. The view was breathtaking, but better still were the little spring flowers that carpeted the slope. Wildflowers of every vibrant colour blended in a stunning tapestry that took on greater radiance in the setting sun. Imagine this*, only in glorious technicolour.

Whoever said flowers are life's small pleasures was sadly, sadly mistaken. I think flowers compare to the greatest joys of life - love and laughter and fresh air and all of it. I used to say Wordsworth's "Daffodils" was a frovolous poem, with no real meaning to it, but now as I think of it, every line resonates with truth.

I bought two stalks of daisies today - they cost me just $1.80 - and those ten-odd flowers put me in a euphoric mood every time I look at them. They make me think of freshness and life; they take me back to that day when I trekked to Gimmelwald and collected myself a tiny little boquet of red and purple flowers. Vinay took a picture of me holding those flowers in front of a small red window with a red chair and table by it, which unfortunately didn't turn up because the batteries in my camera had run down by then. But I don't need the picture. My white daisies are enough to take me back there.


* Vinay took this snap of me the previous day when we were exploring Lauterbrunnen.