East coast of America, beautiful in the Maine

IN Maine, on the western shores of the Atlantic, daffodils were blooming with the same enthusiasm as on our eastern shores a month ago.

The poet Wordsworth would have greatly enjoyed them, as did I.

There was not, as yet, much else in the way of colour in the Maine landscape; the birch trees still are bare, the oaks and maples of cool temperate East Coast America have not yet put on their leaves. This contrasts with the trees at home, where the beeches along our stream are burgeoning and wild flowers are everywhere, even if only pavement ‘weeds’ or the foliage of the diverse, specialised plants that clothe stone walls as summer approaches.