Jonquilles --- Daffodils

Daffodils

I wander'd 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 stretch'd 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.

William Wordsworth (1770-1850)

Cet arbre plus que centenaire est à moitié mort, un de ses troncs a été fauché durant l'hiver. Mais le survivant reprend vie.
This very old tree is half dead, one of its trunks was felled during Winter. But the standing trunk is coming to live.

Les sous-bois s'éveillent. Les têtes de violons se déroulent (en bas à gauche).
Nature is awakening from its slumber. The fiddleheads are unfurling (lower left).

Même les roches servent de terreau.
Even rocks are sprouting.

Je l'ai déjà dit. Le Printemps au Québec est comme nulle part ailleurs. Lorsque la Nature s'éveille elle est en pleine forme!
I've already said that Spring in Quebec is like nowhere else. Nature springs into life.