Each season presents wonder and beauty, but springtime is my favorite time of year. Birth and rebirth fill our eyes and senses with subconscious joy. Budding flowers, bees busy gathering pollen to refill a hives stores depleted by a long cold winter, lilac and tan alfalfa fields and the first trip to the ocean for a dip on a warm day.
What has always been my springtime muse? The daffodil. It’s tender green shoots peaking out from beneath frozen soil tells me the last of the snow will soon be a memory. New carpet gives me the same feeling. All the old memories, stains and burns are soon to be replaced by fresh clean rugs. Renewing my homes interior with hope for ANYTHING. My home office is ready for clients and my living room ready for guests and parties!
When I see that first daffodil I always remember my grandmothers favorite poem by William Wadsworth. She would repeat it over and over for weeks until they were done blooming, from the moment of that first peek of green through the snow…
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.