My grandson Blair has written a little poem which I woud like to share with you.
Dancing daffodils,
After the rain,
Flowers are growing,
Farmer throw the seeds,
Oh dear,
Don’t trample some flowers,
I have an idea,
Love YOU.
That was enough to send me out to the garden with a water spray and my camera. I had not been so close up and person with flowers since I photographed the snowdrops!
The colour is wonderful and the daffodils are everywhere. Here are just a few of the pictures of daffodils in Cruden Country which I took one April morning.
And by the way, there is another daffodil poem by that other poet, but I like Blair’s one better. But perhaps I am prejeudiced?
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.
William Wordsworth
