A host of ...

Daffodils.

Taking my life slightly in my hands, I stopped on the busy Nottingham road, and went and took this picture and some others on the way to work, to be bemusement of some people further down waiting for a bus.


I WANDER'D lonely as a cloud motorist
That floats on high o'er vales dual carridgeways and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake road, beneath the trees hedge,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine (short discourse on stellar physics removed)
And twinkle on the Milky Way (which you can't see because of light pollution),
They stretch'd in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay through route:
Ten thousand (+/-100) saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance wind powered resonance.
The waves photographer beside them danced in fear; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves oncoming windscreens in glee:


I'm sure Wordsworth would approve-ish, well maybe not.