wordy wednesday...daffodils {april 13, 2022}

One of my very favorite springtime sights is the host of golden daffodils that graces the front yard of the “daffodil house” in Oakwood. 

Almost 20 years ago a man bought a couple of the old Oakwood mansions, tore them down, and built “The Farm.” So much drama ensued…the Oakwood residents were outraged. A farm house along mansion row! With the building of this new house, a beautiful landscape evolved. He initially planted 10,000 daffodil bulbs and over the years the amount of daffodil blooms has increased to 160,000. Vehicular traffic slows down to gaze at the sea of yellow, walkers, bike riders, car drivers all stop to take photos. And you don’t have to stay in the street to marvel at the two acres of daffodils. Paths have been created for people to stroll among the loveliness and breathe in the scent that fills the air.

And to keep the National Poetry Month going, "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.