Daffodils and Spring

April is National Poetry Month. The gorgeous, sunshiny weather this weekend was inspiring, so here is a little poem I recall from grammar school (It was a favorite to write in autograph books--remember them?)

Spring has sprung

The grass is riz

I wonder where 

The birdies is.

Not exactly Robert Frost, but happy. And, if you're wondering where the birdies is in New Jersey, the answer for blackbirds is....everywhere.  

This picture doesn't capture it, but the flocks have been blackening lawns and swooping down from trees, squawking and swirling through the sky. I had a Tippi Hedrenesque moment running to my car parked in the driveway, but luckily no attack squadron dive bombed me. Check out this YouTube mashup of scenes from Hitchcock's The Birds. 

Such a deliciously scary movie. Whew...on a calmer note, here's a favorite springtime poem by British romantic poet William Wordsworth. 

Daffodils Wildlife Center - a few years ago- We're still about 2 weeks away from peak bloom for this year

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. Enjoy!