I read that William Wordsworth would take long walks, sometimes with his sister, and these walks would inspire him for his poetry. He would often carry a bag with his writing tools: a journal, pencil, coat, book, and sometimes a sandwich.
His sister wrote that he could write a poem in his head and write it down when he arrived home. I have lost that skill of remembering. Don’t you think? We can’t even remember phone numbers. The best I can do is when I do have inspiration, I type it in my phone. Eighteenth century poets were so much more skilled in words than I.
One winter day, Wordsworth and his sister walked a fair distance between home and a hotel for an engagement. The snow was falling, making the path slippery. But when they arrived, Wordsworth insisted they turn around and do it again. Dorothy wrote about her brother, saying the second time was just as “heavenly” as the first.
……I wandered as lonely as the cloud
That floats on high o’er valleys and hills
When all at once I saw a crowd
A host of golden daffodils….
After Wordsworth died in 1850 at age 80, a friend calculated that he had walked 175 thousand miles in his lifetime. I love reading Wordsworth’s poetry, and “I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud” is one of my favorites.
Today, I worked on some haikus. I love photographing nature; these are all my photographs except the last one.
Snow laden branches.
Sun glimmers brightly through,
embrace the soft warmth.
Space X Falcon 9.
A step toward cosmic dreams,
soars to orbits grand.
Feel the ski’s rhythm
as we dance down the white slopes,
smiles and unbridled joy.
The girl with the twirl,
fairies dance, and dragons play.
Celebrate her world.
Photo credit: Rebeccakaynephotography.com
I want to be like the old poets with words dancing in my head, but my world is too noisy. I need more walks in the hills like Wordsworth.
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