Yellow

It struck me how appropriate yellow flowers are for Spring today. After the cold, gray,depth of winter the flowers appear warm and inviting in the sun, and yellow is clearly the best colour to reflect the sunshine. Those TV naturalists, nowadays frequently overexcited middle class women who bounce across the screen bathed in false smiles and bonhomie, such beings tell us that yellow is the colour insects recognise as a food source. As the year progresses flower colours change accordingly. Of course there are wonderful flowers of other colours around also, but there is a preponderance of yellow, and daffodils show this up most clearly. No wonder Wordsworth, a man enraptured with nature, and he had the cash so to be, wrote about daffodils, although the ones he came upon were of course wild daffs, and slightly different to these seen here. They would of course be seen clearer if the blustery wind had not kept moving the blighter's around! 

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.

Dove Cottage: The Wordsworth Museum