Amid the Chaos of Terror, a Bit of Refreshing Solitude

Springtime at the Sayen Gardens,
Hamilton, New Jersey.

Decades ago, high up on the promontory of Seminary Hill in Bucksport, Maine, I regularly enjoyed a perfect view of the Penobscot River as it flows into the funnel-like neck of Penobscot Bay that opens wide its island-strewn mouth all the way down east, where it eventually greets Mount Desert Island off the coast of The Pine Tree State.

From atop that hill, I took many walks during each season.  One of the most enjoyable of those strolls occurred at the advent of spring, after the end of mud season in Maine.
 
In one particular spot, at the crest of that hill, there lay a long, wide, colorful bed of brilliantly yellow daffodils – far more than I could count. 

Each year, prodded by warm breezes and the encouraging rays of the sun, they rose from the life-giving earth, “tossing their heads in sprightly dance.”

That last phrase is taken from one of my favorite nature poems, penned by William Wordsworth circa 1804.  Yet it still brims over with as much originality, providing comfort for people everywhere, whether they see and enjoy beauty through their eyes, or the imagination of the mind.

Here it is in its entirety for your enjoyment:

I wander’d 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.

Daffodils:  A trio of beauty at
Sayen Gardens, Hamilton, New Jersey.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the Milky Way,
They stretch’d in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced, but they
Outdid 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:
 
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’ve read those words over and over many times – a real collection of jewels.  Challenge:  Look for those verses on your smart phone wherever you find yourself this week, and ask whether they hold meaning for you.

Thanks for reading.  Enjoy tomorrow and the day after that . . . and the next day . . . 

There are many people in the Boston area and in West, Texas, who no longer have the privilege of life, or who may be dealing with civilian PTSD for a long time.

(Click on any image for an enhanced view.)