An Ambleside Spring


imagesPerhaps if I wish for spring enough than it might become a self-fulfilling prophesy. When I return to the UK, it’s always the daffodils and those lonely, solitary clouds.

A Late Boomer's Guide to Life

An Ambleside Spring

 

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.

 

I Wandered Lonely As A Cloud, William Wordsworth, April, 1804

 

Springtime in Northern England is a time of inspired renewal.  Lavender crocus and sun kissed daffodils peek from under moss-covered rocks and along the tufts of broken heather that interrupt the fells, crags, scars, hows and pastures of the Lake District.  The weather is a fickle, undependable companion with four seasons visiting every day.  The wind sweeps down from the northwest unfurling great banners of rain and swirling mist.  Suddenly, a swath of cornflower blue appears and expands into a great chasm of sky bursting with unfiltered spring sun.  The…

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