As spring varies so much across the country, here's what's happening in the Lake District National Park.
We take photos of the flowers that appear in the gardens of Brockhole - Lake District Visitor Centre, overlooking Windermere. Check out our Petal Peek photo album (opens in new window). You can see it even if you're not a Facebooker!
Blossom: late January-February
Snowdrops have especially hardened tips to push through snow.
In the Victorian language of flowers, used to convey hidden meaning in bouquets, a snowdrop means "hope".
Top spots in the Lake District: Woodlands across the National Park.
Best time to see them: late March and April
Their name is derived from "affodell"
In the Victorian language of flowers, a daffodil signifies "respect".
Top spots in the Lake District: Everywhere! Although the most generally accepted location for Wordsworth's daffodils is the shoreline of Ullswater.
Flowering late April - May
Britain has about 25-49 percent of the world's bluebell population.
In the Victorian language of flowers, a bluebell signifies "humility" or "constancy".
Top spots in the Lake District: Rannerdale and Low Wood by Wast Water.
Flowering: in June
There's a tradition of finding out if someone likes butter, by holding up a buttercup under their chin to see if it reflects a yellow light onto their skin.
In the Victorian language of flowers, buttercups mean "cheerfulness".
Top spots in the Lake District: St John's in the Vale near Keswick.
Looking for an enjoyable walk suitable for people with buggies or those with limited mobility? We've more than 40 routes to suit your needs. Check out our Miles without Stiles routes or Miles Without Stiles: Gardens and Grounds.
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I wander'd 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.
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the Milky Way,
They stretch'd in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed - and gazed - but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:
For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.