Every now and then, a day becomes more than a day. I went out to the local botanical garden to do some sketching, and came across a small mass of daffodils all in bloom under the olive tree. After all our rains, the world is bright with new growth and color – butterflies in multitudes, fresh breezes, the scent of flowers – everything is as if the world was just created. How easy it is to forget nature’s beauty in our crazy world . . . 
I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud
   –by William Wordsworth
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.
