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Just came back from the lake district, the cradle of British Romanticism.
This picturesque region is for those exclusive people who want to be excluded from the bustle and hustle. I was lucky to have Dow and her boyfriend Tom accompany me throughout the entire journey. It was unseasonably cold in the lake district, with a temperature of only 13 °C in the midsummer. It had been rainy during my whole stay there, but the gentle rain was pleasant which made the place even more poetic and romantic. Sunshine was scarce , and each appearance of the sun turned the balckish mountains into verdant carpet dotted with smiling daisies. The grassland is an enormous patch of green velvet, so soft that i even envied the grazing sheep there. I could "catch" the breeze as it seeped through my hair, blew through the leaves and awakened the afternoon. Time seemed to stop flowing there, and I could breathe with the wind, the grass, the birds, the flowers, in this world of tranquility and purity.
The lake district came into the public attention after William Wordsworth published his "I wandered lonely as a cloud." Yet summer is not the season of daffodiles, though the clouds are as lonely as before. I am not a poet, and I almost forgot what Wordsworth wrote when he resided by the lake, but I still find the lake district the most charming place in England, and feel revived after staying there for four days. The scenery is beyond words, and the moment of touch is everlasting. Someone once said that the only thing immortal in the world is loneliness. Well, to me, the memory of being marveled at the natural beauty is indelible, though the natural beauty may fade away one day. And I was not lonely there, since I was accompanied by Nature.
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