- Promises of Spring
In 1804, when William Wordsworth wrote his famous poem, “I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud,” the daffodils he spoke of numbered 10,000. They were fluttering and dancing in the breeze beside Ullswater Lake, considered the most beautiful of all the lakes in England.
I don’t think Oysterville will be able to boast quite so many daffodils next spring – but nearly! Last year Bradley (who lives just south of the church) planted 2,000 daffodil bulbs and when spring came, they stretched in never-ending line/along the margin of the bay as did those that Wordsworth saw so far away and long ago.
The last few days, Bradley has been planting more bulbs. “About 4,000 this year,” he says. As he did a year ago, he is planting many of them in his own garden and in huge containers on his porch. But he has plenty left over to plant in front of the fences along Territory Road. They will make a grand showing in the spring.
Bradley chooses his varieties carefully so that there will be a stunning burst of color beginning in February and continuing for several more months. And, in keeping with the historic character of the village, none of the cultivars are ‘modern’ varieties – nothing later than 1940. I have to take his word on that part. All I know is that I am already looking forward to those sprightly, fragrant blossoms – the first harbingers of spring!
Thank you, Bradley! We are so lucky you are our neighbor!
The daffodils at the north end of the Megler bridge welcome us every spring when we arrive back at the peninsula. I watch eagerly for them.
Every year when the old fashioned daffodils that were planted alongside the road would bloom, I remember the stories of the ladies from the Oysterville Community Club who planted them with a love of community. Now there will be more to make me smile.
What I have always been curious about are the daffodils that spring up on the cliff where the Megler Bridge intersects the highway on the Washington side. They are always lovely (and I see more of that neck of the woods than I do Oysterville with my bi-monthly trips to Astoria) and wonder how they got there in the first place. Does anyone know?
PS I always loved that poem and didn’t mind having to memorize it as a child. I don’t think they make children do that anymore which is sad. But I’m sure they can sing all kinds of commercial jingles.
I remember the “host of golden daffodils” at Grandma and Grandpa Biggs’ house on Skating Lake Road. There were hundreds and hundreds. Corky and Ronnie Biggs’ home now sits on that field and they did well by it with their beautiful park-like setting.
I remember that Mary (forget her last name) who lives near the Astoria bridge was the one who planted those narcissi, so I heard.