Posts Tagged ‘Daffodils’

It’s beginning to look a lot like spring in the Northeast…finally! The weekly photo topic is right on time.

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It’s been a long, cold winter in New England. Even though the calendar has proclaimed that the new season started weeks ago, we are just now on the threshold of spring. Opening Day at Fenway was yesterday (the Official start of spring in NE), and the crocuses are blooming.

Purple Crocuses

Crocuses in bloom

The bright green sprouts of lilies are poking out of last year’s mulch.


Lilies Sprouting

The daffodils are just beginning to bud.


Daffodil’s are on Their Way!

And yet there is still that one stubborn patch of dirty snow that won’t give up the ghost…

patch of dirty snow

Last Spot of Snow…

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The weekly photo challenge topic is Change.

This yard is in the midst of change: a “winter” deer on one side of the tree and daffodils on the other.

Christmas deer with daffodils

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They are so bright and cheerful. They burst from the last of winter’s muted landscape as a personification of our joy at the coming spring.

In New England, March is early for the daffodils to be out, but with this year’s warm weather…here they are!

I lived in Knoxville for a while, and one of my favorite sights was the naturalized daffodils on the side of the highway (this was taken a couple of years ago along Pellissippi Parkway). In Tennessee, everything is out around now (note the dogwoods in the background–the dogwood festival starts next week).

I have some favorite poems about daffodils. One is Wordsworth’s poem and this is the other.

To an Early Daffodil
Thou yellow trumpeter of laggard Spring!
Thou herald of rich Summer’s myriad flowers!
The climbing sun with new recovered powers
Does warm thee into being, through the ring
Of rich, brown earth he woos thee, makes thee fling
Thy green shoots up, inheriting the dowers
Of bending sky and sudden, sweeping showers,
Till ripe and blossoming thou art a thing
To make all nature glad, thou art so gay;
To fill the lonely with a joy untold;
Nodding at every gust of wind to-day,
To-morrow jewelled with raindrops. Always bold
To stand erect, full in the dazzling play
Of April’s sun, for thou hast caught his gold.
Amy Lowell

Notice she says April. She was from New England.

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