I recently thought of Wordsworth's "I Wandered Lonely
as a Cloud" when I was watching all the cloud formations as I drove
through New Mexico and Arizona. Of course, the poem is really about daffodils
and memory, the clouds being simply a simile to describe the speaker's
wandering: "lonely as a cloud." But I was glad to be reminded of
daffodils, too, especially as winter gives way to spring this April. The
daffodils in the poem are "sprightly" and "jocund'" as they
"flutter in the breeze."
As the speaker watches them, he has no idea
how much joy they will bring him later, when he conjures them up in his memory
and "dances with the daffodils."
So powerful is memory that it can reproduce a vivid scene from our past
as though it were with us in the present: we experience not only the visual
vista but also the emotional experience.