I wandered lonely as as 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.
william wordsworth
I don’t normally read poetry. That wasn’t always the
case. In first grade I found a book of poems in the school library that
fascinated me. In high school, dissecting poetry dampened any enthusiasm.
There are a few poems I love. High Flight by John Gillespie Magee, Jr.; The Tide Rises, The Tide Falls by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow; The White Cliffs by Alice Duer Miller; I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud.
I’ve loved daffodils as long as I can remember. When
my Brownie Girl Scout troop graduated to Junior Girl Scouts, we needed an
emblem, and I pushed hard for the daffodil, and succeeded.
The sunny daffodil’s trumpet is one of the first
blooms to grace the Spring. Native to the Mediterranean area, and grown by the Greeks and the
Romans, daffodils fell from favor and were forgotten until about 1629. A group
of Englishmen rescued the daffodil from the weeds and put it back in the
garden. As America settled and spread west, daffodils were “must have” in the
garden. They even have their own American Daffodil Society.
Who
can resist such a spritely flower? The memory of daffodils dancing in the
breeze, outshining the sparkling lake beside them, brought poet William
Wordsworth out of a pensive mood. He couldn’t help but be happy and laugh
again.
What’s
your favorite flower?
