Today we traveled to Wordsworth hometown of Grasmere where he and other romantic poets got their inspiration. A very famous gingerbread house lay in that town known for its brilliant gingerbread. The smell of gingerbread wafted through the woods and cottages. It was almost like a fairy tale. We then landed in the city of Glascow- it is a larger city. We walked through George Square, passed music and murals greatly enjoying the scenery.

Tomorrow we are off to the Highlands and I imagine it will be full of open fields, greenery and a calming silence. Here is a lovely poem to end the night. As Wordsworth conveyed through his writing, there is a lot of rushing that goes on these days. The rushing seems to replace the writing, the dreaming, the feeling and thinking. When you rush, you miss out on what may be coming next. 

I wandered lonely as a cloud 

That floats on high o'er vales and hills, the aunt

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.