..."Daffodils" (1804)....

OK...let's face it...2009 was a shitty year and we don't need to revisit it again...record unemployment, stock market crashes, swine flu...damn.

Spring is here. It's God's way of saying there is hope that things will 'renew' again. New leaves, new grass...and the season favorite..new daffodils. Count on them! They say in one 'bright hello' that we have hope again. Perhaps if you look deep into the daffodil...most of the pain of such a crazy year seems to drop-off a little. Maybe ...just maybe things are getting better.

The Dow is up, the sun is shining, Dilly is feeling better and more importantly we have all had the time to heal from last year. Let's focus on what the daffodil has to offer...a fresh 'new beginning.' Take the time to enjoy....and let's move into the future...but first, let's visit the past. Let's go back to 1804: Territory of Orleans organizes in Louisiana Purchase. Lewis and Clark set out from St. Louis for Pacific Coast. Senate and Tribune declare Napolean leader of France. Haiti gains independence from France. New Jersey becomes last northern state to abolish slavery. Congress orders removal of Indians east of Mississippi to Louisiana...and the daffodil started that spring...like this one.

"Daffodils" (1804)
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.

By William Wordsworth (1770-1850).