I am sequestered in my son’s home on Long Island with Mary and our 100-pound mutt Mitzi. My son is sequestered in Los Angeles. Whenever the sun shines, we take long walks with Mitzi, and one of the happiest sights is the clumps of daffodils that have popped up. They are the symbol of spring, a token of the earth renewing itself as it does every year, a flower that celebrates the turning of the seasons.
Garrison Keillor thought about this famous poem by William Wordsworth, which I first read many years ago in high school.
I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud
by William Wordsworth
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.
“I Wandered Lonely As A Cloud” by William Wordsworth. Public domain. (buy now)
It was on this day in 1802 that William Wordsworth (books by this author) was walking home with his sister, Dorothy, and saw a patch of daffodils that became the inspiration for one of his most famous poems.
They were returning from a visit to their friends Thomas and Catherine Clarkson, who lived on the shore of Ullswater, the second largest lake in England’s lake district, a beautiful deep lake, nine miles long, surrounded by mountains.
Dorothy wrote in her journal: “When we were in the woods beyond Gowbarrow park we saw a few daffodils close to the water side. We fancied that the lake had floated the seeds ashore and that the little colony had so sprung up. But as we went along there were more and yet more and at last under the boughs of the trees, we saw that there was a long belt of them along the shore, about the breadth of a country turnpike road. I never saw daffodils so beautiful they grew among the mossy stones about and about them, some rested their heads upon these stones as on a pillow for weariness and the rest tossed and reeled and danced and seemed as if they verily laughed with the wind that blew upon them over the lake, they looked so gay ever glancing ever changing.”
William was impressed by the daffodils too, but William didn’t write anything about them for at least two years, maybe more. No one is sure when he wrote the poem “I wander’d lonely as a cloud,” but it was published in 1807. Not only did Wordsworth probably reference Dorothy’s journal for inspiration, but his wife Mary came up with two lines: “They flash upon that inward eye / Which is the bliss of solitude.” William said they were the best lines in the poem.

I was in NYC in the spring following 911. Daffodils were everywhere, a gift from the Netherlands and the hundreds of volunteers in the city who had planted the bulbs.
I also read Wadsworth’s poem in high school. The big sign of Spring for midwesterners is the blooming of another yellow flower, Forsythia.
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Where I am sequestered, on Long Island, we have both daffodils and forsythia.
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Those are the best lines!!!
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Words worth remembering!
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Ha! Better to remember those words than to let your face grow long, fellow.
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I am just a Poe boy. . . .
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LOL, Left Coast!
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Wordsworth is
A truthful bliss
But WordPress is
A a nuisance biz
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Especially since it has no edit capability.
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Since I have a few blogs through WordPress, I write all of my posts in Microsoft Word where I revise and edit before I copy and paste into WP. After I schedule the post, I read through it one more time on WP, and almost always catch stuff I missed back in MW.
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We have daffodils. But then, it snowed this morning….
Frankly, snow in April should be illegal.
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Take God to court?
So, there was a fence between heaven and hell. God called Satan over and said, “When are you going to do something about your fence?”
“What’s the problem?” said Satan.
“Your fence. It’s an eyesore,” said God.
“You want something done about the fence, do it yourself, Mr. High and Mighty,” said Satan.
“Fix the fence or I’ll see you in court,” said God.
“Oh yeah?” said Satan. “Where are YOU going to get a lawyer?”
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“Where are YOU going to get a lawyer?”
God looked over his shoulder and said, “Come here, Son. I have a job for you.”
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They are up in my yard here in Utah. I love this poem. I memorized the first stanza as a second grader years ago.
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I don’t know, I’ve been shuttered in a Manhattan apartment having panic attacks for nearly every minute of the last five weeks.
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I hear you on the panic attacks. Sorry to hear it though.
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I reread part of Anne Frank’s diary to some of my classes on Monday. I just now read one of my students answers to a writing assignment, submitted this morning. I’d like to share part of it with you: “Anne went through something that I can never imagine going through, sure we in a way are going through it right now but it’s not close to what she went through… The fact that she was looking at being [cooped up] as a vacation, that she still saw the bright side of hiding… She was always looking at the bright side of things and tried not to let things like hiding bring her down.”
Anne Frank was an heroically exceptional young woman. I aspire to be like her while shuttered.
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Back in our high school (decades ago) our speech and debate club held a daffodil sale as a fundraiser every first day of spring. I was in charge of the sale a couple years. Imagine a small office behind a classroom filled with 2000 daffodils. I always think of my wonderful speech coach, Kathleen Viscardi, whenever I see even just one daffodil. She put up with all of us kids and was one of the most optimistic people I’ve ever known. So, hey, “Mrs. V.”, I’m still using what you taught me.
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Perfection. That hit the spot. Thank you, Diane.
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Bullwinkle on daffodils!
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Over the years, we have planted over 1000 daffodil bulbs on our property, about 100 every year. They’re everywhere, around the house and yard. I love daffodils, and mid-April through mid-May, I stand on the deck and survey my magnificent daffodil kingdom.
We got a couple of inches of snow yesterday (which is good, because it makes the fools protesting Gov Gretchen Whitmer in Lansing for not letting them put their boats in–a big deal in Michigan–look stupid), so the daffs are still closed and still. But they will keep me hopeful once the parade starts.
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Oh my Lord. That sounds wonderful!
My friend Kat’s father, wherever she was in the world, would send her daffodils every spring.
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Come to Bell Buckle in March some time when all of his is over. See comment below.
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Beautiful! Daffodils are my favorite flowers.
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One of my very favorite poems! Brings back great memories of exploring poetry in elementary school. Teachers instilled a lifelong love of poetry.
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One of my very favorite poems! Brings back great memories of exploring poetry in elementary school. Teachers instilled a lifelong love of poetry. Thanks for this!
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Lots of daffodils, jonquils, forsythia, blood root flowers, purple flox, redbuds, dogwoods and many others that I don’t know names for. Starting to totally green out now.
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I grew up outside the town of Bell Buckle, Tennessee. It was not really famous for anything, but a private school there put it on the map. When I was a boy the son of its founder and a friend of the family taught me how to shake hands after church. William Webb loved daffodils. He raised them out behind his house in ever-expanding beds. Sometime before I was born, he started planting them up the road toward the highway.
Well, that is not quite right. Gene Brady, and African-American man who worked for him did the labor. Gene was a great soul. He helped my father build a barn when I was small, laying block and sawing wood with a handsaw long after everybody else had gotten circular saws. Mr. Gene would give me long lectures on the “workin’ man” and how he was different from the lazy man.
The daffodils (we always called them buttercups, not our only misnomer) now flood the sides of the road in the spring, a sea of yellow heralding the coming of spring. Here they are out of bloom now, and the fields are growing quickly. Annual rye is heading out in the fields and my neighbor’s crimson Clover is in full bloom. Pawlonia trees and wisteria are blooming in the wastelands and in the deep woods, Jack-in-the-pulpit and trillium race with the growing tree canopy for their share of sunlight. Soon the Rose-breasted Grosbeak will spend his few days on the way so see all y0u good people in the north on his breeding grounds. The White-throated sparrows are getting fewer and the woodpeckers now carry off chunks of my feed in their bills to babies somewhere in the woods. The blue-winged warbler is back down by the power lines again, and we heard our first wood thrush of the year.
Stick in there you northerners. Spring is on the way.
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& snow is in the forecast!
Meanwhile, our day lilies & tulips have come up (greens, not yet flowers). But–
Seriously, how weird was it to wake up & see the cars–& the ground–covered w/snow this morning in Chicagoland? I went back to bed. Then, when I awoke, it was approx. 12:30,
40+ degrees & sunny &, of course, all the snow had melted.
Our magnolia has already bloomed &, miraculously, still has most of its flowers (usually one rainstorm–which we’ve had–or winds–which we’ve also had–has, by this time, knocked them all off). But this year, by some miracle of nature, nearly all the flowers are still beautifully attached!
I take that as a hopeful sign.
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