A host of golden daffodils

The daffodils burst into bloom overnight. March 14, 2012. One of the earliest dates in my memory.

I cannot look at these beautiful blooms without recalling the poem my 8th grade teacher required we memorize. So in honor of Mrs. Clausen who did so much to plant poetry in my mind, and in joy at the early daffodil blooms, I share William Wordsworth's lovely poem, penned in 1804.

"I Wandered Lonely As A Cloud"

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.

Itching for spring, for green

I'm itching to be in the garden. The view outside my office window is brown, brown and more brown. With your occasional robin, which tells me spring is on the way.

This morning, I took the loppers and cut volunteer trees out of the hedgerows, a task I usually tackle in the fall. You can see how desperate I am to be outside. I found the task much easier to do before everything leafs out. This may become a new spring routine.

My daffodils are up and budding. I don't know if they know that it is still very early in March, and this is IOWA. Normally I'd be raking away the leaf mulch, but I'm hesitant - winter could still throw something big at us. I sure hope the daffodils know more than the calendar.

Since the sun is shining and the breeze is blowing and today is a very good approximation of spring, I'm going back outside. There are sticks to pick up. Daffodils to appreciate.

If the daffodils can pretend it's spring, so can I.

The color of spring

Nature decides when it's really spring. She lets us know one bit of color at a time.

Today, weeping willow fronts tinge yellow as they begin to bud. Green daffodil leaves persist in pushing through the brown mulch on flower beds. Magnolia buds pulse a dusty sage green.

It will be some time - maybe weeks - before the daffodil blooms pop their yellow trumpets, before the magnolia tree is covered with pink and white teacup blossoms, before the willow tree weeps yellow pollen.

But everything will happen. When nature decides it's really spring.

Just one week - A daffodil ode to spring

On March 21, we woke to six inches of new snow. Normally, I'd say 'How pretty!', but then we were not exactly heading into Christmas.  The daffodils stood tall in the snow.

Three days later, daffodil buds looked ready to pop.  Might we have blooms by Easter Sunday? I kept my fingers crossed.

Another three days and the bud heads were bowed, a sure sign blooms were not far away.

This morning the first bright daffodil blossoms were nodding in the breeze. What a difference a week makes!