Walter Winchell?
Willie Wonka?
William Wordsworth?
Daffodils
I wandered 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.....
There is more if you care to look it up in this well-known poem from the first decade of the 1800's--about how the memory can recall such a scene and bring one peace and joy, much like when we remember finding a long-sought-after or never-imagined tool. Or even daffocils.
Forgive me for waxing poetic. I was once a lit teacher in another lifetime.
