Spring at last

Spring flowers

Spring has well and truly arrived.  Birds are feverishly gathering moss for their nests, bees are getting drunk on blossom nectar and daffodils are lighting the roadside verges with sunshine.  I have been getting out with my camera as much as I can rather than spending time indoors at my desk and I am very behind with blogging and replying to comments.  Please bear with me – spring fever will wear off eventually.  In the meantime, this is the first of a series of short posts celebrating the arrival of this most hopeful of seasons.

I know this poem has become cliché, but really it is so beautiful I can’t think of any reason not to enjoy it again, and again.

Daffodils
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o’er vales and hills,
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.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed–and gazed–but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

–  William Wordsworth