Daffodils

It's been a short 44 years since I graduated from high school, and I've probably either forgotten or replaced most of the things I learned there. Now, though, it seems that some of the old "files" I created then have been dragged out of storage and put back into play. Some of them are more welcome than others, but then, isn't that the way life is? Maybe that's what is meant by entering one's second childhood. I hope I don't digress any further than high school. I mean, my formative years were as good as they could be, even approaching idyllic, but I'd rather remember them with a half century of filters in play than go back and re-live them. But sometimes things long buried come back with clarity, and today was one of those times. The daffodils are in full bloom here, and I've been out taking pictures of them all morning, for no reason other than I couldn't help myself. And then I surprised some of our chickens, and countless birds clustering around the bird feeders for their breakfast by reciting the entire poem by William Wordsworth (not really one of my favorite poets), complete with arm waving oratory. Me, a grown man! Was it Mrs. W.W. Watkins, Mrs. Carmen Haynes, or - crazy as it may seem - Mrs. Blanche Mayfield that made all of us stand in front of the class and stumble through that poem? Whichever, the two of them who have passed on I thank, and the one still correcting my postings I thank, too. I'm not going to post the entire poem here, but do this: If you want to smile and tear up a little, go read it. If you have children or grandchildren, read it to them. If you just need a pick-me-up on a beautiful spring day, read it twice. If you are completely insane, ask me and I'll record it and send it to you to listen to - but your tears will probably be from sympathy for a man who's gone all the way around the bend. Read it. It's more than worth it. In the meantime, "My heart with pleasure fills, and dances with the daffodils."