There is still absolutely no sign of the daffodil bulbs I planted (illicitly, as it turned out) on the shore of the Lullwater. However, there was a carpet of these little Siberian squill just outside the Cleft Ridge Span. What a name for a flower; it sounds more like some hardy little Arctic bait fish.
The park was alive with birdsong: red-winged blackbird, robin, blue jay, mocker, woodpecker, and that guy who mournfully says "pee-wee" (minor key, lower on the second note). I also noted a lot of inter-bird violence; in this patch of woods, two male cardinals swooped in circles over and over again, one aggressively divebombing the other. I'm sure sex and springtime are the reasons for it all.
Can you find the cardinal in the big picture? If not, here is the Zapruderized detail. Can you find the daffodils? Me neither.
And I even found a souvenir: this gorgeous coronet of cones from the intriguing conifer (not sure what kind) at the foot of the Lullwater Bridge.