Wandering like the Wordsworths
Grasmere - the view I would have seen!
“Let nature be your teacher” said the Romantic Poet William Wordsworth in ‘Tables Turned’ (published 1798). William and his sister Dorothy were avid walkers and it was a major and important part of their lives. Walking not just for the sake of getting from one place to another but for the sheer pleasure of it and to gain inspiration. Walking enables the mind to disengage from thoughts and allow the subconscious to take over. Particularly if you are noticing what is around you.
William often relied on Dorothy to notice details. In ‘The Sparrow’s Nest’ William writes of his beloved sister “She gave me eyes, she gave me ears” and it was her Journal writing which he turned to when in need of both memory and inspiration. She wrote about the daily happenings in their lives - the people they met, the nature she observed as well as how they spent their time. Dorothy had a wonderful knack of noticing the minutiae of life and giving it value - which isn’t something which comes naturally to all of us.
Yesterday I walked a favourite route in the Lake District - Around Loughrigg Fell. It’s 6 miles, 900 feet of ascent and is a circular walk from Ambleside. It’s extremely popular but as I began early, parking was easy. It was one of those days where the sun failed to make an appearance for the whole duration of the day. The air was damp, the mist full and the breeze non-existent. I had enough spare clothes for an Arctic exploration but the warmth of the day meant the gloves, hat, buff were all quickly stuffed back in the rucksack.
I have walked this route so many times that it didn’t matter that there were no views - they were there in my mind’s eye and I knew exactly what I would see around every corner at a fairer time of year. But the low cloud allowed me to focus in on those things closer to hand, to notice details in a Dorothy kind of way. There is a delightful beauty about walking at this time of year, in these weather conditions which you simply don’t get in the full sun of summer. Everything was damp; every twig, stem and blade of grass glistened with sparkling drops, hanging like Christmas lights. They almost twinkled, like stars on a dull grey background. Except it wasn’t grey. Only the sky and even that wasn’t a uniform colour. For the rest, there was some dull green and the dark brown of trees. But the colour which made the whole scene pop was the bright russet red of the bracken. In summer the abundance of this in its dark green form is far less striking than the winter version. With a colour palette more muted and restrained the presence of one bold colour lifts and enhances the scene.
In summer you are so busy looking at the views - of the fells and the lakes (Grasmere and Rydal Water) that you often don’t take time to study the walls, to pause and look for wildlife, to admire the shape of the leafless trees. I stopped at the Stepping Stones - and there was a dipper, bobbing up and down on one of them. Whilst there, a heron glided above us, wings making that soft flapping noise which causes you to look up. There were ducks, friendly robins trying to find scraps of food and, of course, sheep. The native breed, Herdwicks, stay out over winter - looking a little scraggy but making the most of the grass on the rocky soil.
So, if I was letting nature be my teacher, what did I learn? To pause, look around, notice details. When you walk alone you can stop when you want and have the mental space to truly engage with the world around you. Most (all?) of the people I passed were so busy talking to each other and marching along at a pace that didn’t seem to allow for much noticing. That also has benefits of course but winter is a lovely time to slow down and notice the beauty in nature that is all around if only you go slowly enough to notice it.
