Last autumn, a group of local volunteers planted 60,000 daffodil bulbs in the medians around three exits along one of the interstates just north of downtown Knoxville. I went to see one of the displays. The sight is very pretty to behold–crepe myrtles to follow–and should be spectacular in years to come after the daffodils have multiplied.
I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud
I wandered lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills, 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 gaze--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.