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.
William Wordsworth
Halloween is over and I meant to post this - and forgot. We had no visitors on the night, we're not on the city's register of house...
The sunlight makes this such a scene of hopefulness, as if something good is coming.
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