I almost had spring fever today. Outside, it looked like March - mud here and there, the grass that blah not-green color, everything ugly. I opened up the Wordsworth at the bookmark, and looked for something to speak to me. 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.
I am liking his poems, for the most part, even though they're rather flowery. But I guess that was the way it was in his day? I picked up my British Country Living, to the bookmark.
I looked outside again. It was a beautiful day. Spring is coming.
Sweet! The weather sometimes needs a little help from poetry and art.
ReplyDeleteI would love to see the wild daffodils next to Ullswater. We have walked there but at the wrong time of year. The wild ones are known as Lenten lilies. Spring is on it's way but not here yet.
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