Beside the lake, beneath the trees, Fluttering and dancing in the breeze


Last weekend we went to one of the most beautiful regions this island has to offer – the Lake District National Park. It takes a few hour drive up the M6, but it is well worth it.


We went up to the very top of the park, to Bassenthwaite Lake. It was so remote, that even the mobile phone reception got lost. Luckily we had the pictorial guides of the Northern Fells by Alfred Wainwrights to follow – the loveliest climbing book I have ever seen.


We chose the smallest one “Little Dodd” for a start, as I liked the description by A. Wainwright of it: “whelp of Skiddaw crouched at the feet of his parent”.


Not only was the view from the top breathtaking – but so was the walk along Bassenthwaite Lake – the only actual lake in the “Lake District”.


I think William Wordsworth’s most famous poem “Daffodils” sums it up nicely.

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.

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.


There weren’t any Daffodils this time of the year, but lots of lovely HydrangeasI could not help it, but had to sniff them all 😉


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