Daffa-down-dillies

It is a grey cold wet spring day here, but as I look outside my rain spattered sliding glass door I see signs of spring green emerging in my yard. For me the changing of the seasons is God's way of reminding us that change can be a good thing..... the grass has begun shedding its brown winter coat and the "popcorn is (officially) popping" on my apricot tree.

One of the things that brings the biggest smile to my face, this time of year, is the sight of all the happy yellow daffodils, or Daffa-down-dillies as I like to call them.

Even my weeds are a pretty shade of green. :)

 

They are one of the happiest flowers!

I remember how excited I was during my recent visit to London to see the random cascades of daffodils in Hyde Park on the verge of bursting open. I wished I could have extended my visit one more week just to see the daffodils. It would have been an amazing sight to behold. Thanks to the power of the the world wide web I know it would have looked something like this:

Hyde Park, London England

So enjoy spring with all of its bipolar weather because whether there is rain, shine, or snow these little flowers stand happy and tall through it all. Perhaps a good symbolism for life, no?

But before you leave....here is one of my favorite poems that pays tribute to those happy golden Daffa-down-dillies. Happy Spring!

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.

-William Wordsworth