No flower means spring to me more than the daffodil.  I look forward to the time of year when the wild daffodils spring up in the fields and along the roadside.  Oftentimes, they mark the spot where a house once stood but is now long gone.  Over the years, the bulbs reproduce and leave bright yellow clusters for all to enjoy.

… When all at once I saw a crowd
A host of golden daffodils
Beside the lake beneath the trees
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze …”
― William Wordsworth