I Wandered Lonely As A Cloud

"I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud" by William Wordsworth is one of my favorite poems—especially the last stanza.  He describes how he once saw daffodils blowing in the breeze, and how that one moment can still bring him comfort amidst his solitude.

I think of this poem a lot during the New England winters—the only season, for me, that forces me to be solitary and holds any promise of transformation, while also being the most difficult part of the year.  The start of the new year has nothing to do with it; for me, it's the fact that the bone chilling weather and the long hours of darkness force me to bunker down at home, and then there's finally time to think.  

My favorite parts of this winter so far have been the couple times I've been out in the woods for walks...it was absolutely freezing, but so refreshing and stop-in-your-tracks gorgeous.  Below are some pictures from these walks, and also the poem.  I love mountains, and nature, and poetry...so I'm a sucker for any nature poet...but Wordsworth really says it all.  

"I Wandered Lonely As A Cloud" by William Wordsworth

          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.

          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.

          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:

          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.