Now it is March and when I think of this month, it doesn't bring to mind either St. Patrick or the Eides of March.
When I lived in England March in my garden was the month of Daffodils.
One of the greatest poems by Britain's pre-eminent Poet laureate of the late Georgian and early Victorian period, William Wordsworth was Daffodils, the story of a walk by one of the lakes in Englands Lake District, close to the border with Scotland.
The Lake District is well worth a visit in any time of year but this poem firmly sets March in my mind as a perfect time.
When I lived in England March in my garden was the month of Daffodils.
The Lake District is well worth a visit in any time of year but this poem firmly sets March in my mind as a perfect time.
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