Spring

Every place has its own signs that spring is on the way. Here near the salt marshes of the Chesapeake Bay it is the sounds of thousands of waterfowl stopping for a rest on their journey northward. It is also the chorus of peepers each evening. One that brings an immediate smile to me, however, is the sea of yellow daffodils that dot the countryside. I can not help but share the joy that William Wordsworth felt while walking with his sister all those many years ago when he wrote his famous poem in 1804 - Daffodils.

I WANDER'D 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 stretch'd 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.