Muscari in April
It’s that time of year when road verges, commons and any other piece of public land local councils can decorate are yellow and flamboyant with frilly daffodils.
I love them. Not only do they remind me of Wordsworth (always a nice remind), but they make a raucous statement that spring is here and all things are new.
Beside the daffs the quiet, modest flowers, are also doing their job making parks and gardens beautiful – winter aconites, primroses, snowdrops and grape hyacinths (Muscari) and others.
I did a web search on ‘poetry about Muscari’ not really expecting anything, and found this lovely quote by Carl Sandberg:
Poetry is the synthesis between hyacinths & biscuits.
I also found a copy of G K Chesterton’s The Paradise of Thieves, which starts:
The great Muscari, most original of the young Tuscan poets, walked swiftly into his favourite restaurant…
Everything in the world has someone to write about it.