Dare we believe it?

We have now had two days of sunshine -- TWO DAYS. And the temps have been warm. And the birds, they have been singing happily in the trees. And we have actual daffodils coming up around our house. Yes, daffodils!

Could it be, in this misbegotten, truculent, fickle spring, that nice weather might be here to stay? I don't mind the gentle spring rains, even. Naturally, at this stage, I would prefer sunshine, but if I can just avoid bundling up in my winter coat, gloves, scarf and earmuffs, THAT WOULD BE JUST DANDY, MOTHER NATURE.

Anyhoo, on a lovely Sunday morning like this, there's nothing for it but to bust out the William Wordsworth, even though I'm not much on rhyming poetry. Today is finally our chance to get out there and wander like little clouds, and maybe plant some grass seed.

So here you are, from 1804, William Wordsworth's "Daffodils."

I wander'd 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 stretch'd 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.