Of Wandering in the Lake District

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.

The Lake District is considered one of the primary vacation spots in Britain, the place in many a Victorian novels and poetry where denizens of England can go, unwind, and relax beside the peaceful green hills, the wildflowers, the lakes, and, my personal favorite, the fabulous old-fashioned real estate that had names such as "Lilac Cottage" or "Lipwood"

Continuous as the stars that shine
and twinkle on the Milky Way,
They stretched in never-ending line
along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

Our main spot was the small town of Windermere, right next to the lake of a same name. Up on the overlook called Forest Head, we were able to get a view of the entire lake and hills and valleys beyond. It was cold, windy, and rainy, as England weather is oft to be this time of the year. If I were to look at this positively, I would just say it gave the landscape a sense of mystery, another edge that William Wordsworth certainly did not mention in his books about this place.

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:

While in the tiny town of Grasmere, we came upon the house of William Wordsworth, where he lived there for 8 years with his sister. In his poems, he often spoke of walking and allowing the beauty of nature to move you, to seep into your senses and inspire you towards creativity. As a result, he wrote some of the richest and emotional poetry in the English language. Not a bad gift that nature gave him.

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. - "I Wandered Lonely As a Cloud" by William Wordsworth

What certainly filled my heart with pleasure was not so much the daffodils (being dead this time of year) but rather, something else that danced, that smelled like heaven, and that brought a sense of warmth to an otherwise cold day: Grasmere gingerbread. Part biscuit, part cake, this special recipe can only be found in the little town of Grasmere in the Lake District and the scent of it brought home images of warm tea and cakes in beautiful china cups. And the ginger, oddly enough, reminded me of home so for a while, instead of wandering in a little town in England, I wanted to wander home. Time to leave and continue on...

The Lake District, the photo album