Wild
Some grand traditional wet bank holiday weekend weather today … it excelled itself. I perversely rather enjoyed it. I had briefly wondered about a day trip to Edinburgh to see Gordon Brown but it seemed a bit crazy and so, just a few hours after reading ceridwen’s blip about the film Wilding https://www.blipfoto.com/entry/3271783195762233220 , I decided to be a brave little soldier and headed for Keswick on a wet bank holiday (extra … what was I thinking?!) and was soon in the Alhambra watching it. Afterwards I sat in my favourite Keswick cafe https://westhouse.org.uk/cafe-west/ drying out and warming up with a cuppa whilst watching the expanding moat in Fitz Park.
I then headed to Great Wood on the slim chance that I might find my woolly hat that I lost last Saturday. Given the lake level (extra) it will undoubtedly have drowned by now but it was wonderfully wild anyway. I thought about the film as I battled the elements and couldn’t help think how ahead of his time Wordsworth was with his advice to George Beaumont when it came to landscaping Coleorton and ‘working with Nature’ … and our ‘meddling intellect’.
The Tables Turned - William Wordsworth
Up! up! my Friend, and quit your books;
Or surely you'll grow double:
Up! up! my Friend, and clear your looks;
Why all this toil and trouble?
The sun above the mountain's head,
A freshening lustre mellow
Through all the long green fields has spread,
His first sweet evening yellow.
Books! 'tis a dull and endless strife:
Come, hear the woodland linnet,
How sweet his music! on my life,
There's more of wisdom in it.
And hark! how blithe the throstle sings!
He, too, is no mean preacher:
Come forth into the light of things,
Let Nature be your teacher.
She has a world of ready wealth,
Our minds and hearts to bless—
Spontaneous wisdom breathed by health,
Truth breathed by cheerfulness.
One impulse from a vernal wood
May teach you more of man,
Of moral evil and of good,
Than all the sages can.
Sweet is the lore which Nature brings;
Our meddling intellect
Mis-shapes the beauteous forms of things:—
We murder to dissect.
Enough of Science and of Art;
Close up those barren leaves;
Come forth, and bring with you a heart
That watches and receives.
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