The life of things

At Harrop Tarn (see extra). It never fails to remind me of Thoreau's 'Walden'.

Whilst there I was reminded of Wordsworth's 'Lines composed a few miles above Tintern Abbey'  ...

      ..... that blessed mood,
      In which the burthen of the mystery,
      In which the heavy and the weary weight
      Of all this unintelligible world,                               
      Is lightened:--that serene and blessed mood,
      In which the affections gently lead us on,--
      Until, the breath of this corporeal frame
      And even the motion of our human blood
      Almost suspended, we are laid asleep
      In body, and become a living soul:
      While with an eye made quiet by the power
      Of harmony, and the deep power of joy,
      We see into the life of things.