The Music of Nature

Literature comes hand in hand with journaling

Today, I went out in the afternoon sun for an inner cleanse, and it was so perfect because of the beautiful contrast of the wind and the Ilios. I didn’t walk around the neighborhood like I usually do but adventured to lay on the grass, close my eyes, and let nature purify my emotions with its special approach. I laid there and thought for a long time. I felt every blade of grass poke my body and every breeze tried to sweep me away. But what struck me most was the wind going through all the plants. The wind made them all dance to the music it sang. When the wind was strong, the grass and trees danced more vigorously. When it was calm, they all moved softly. Each time, they danced to the sound and pace of nature’s music.

In real life, when you dance, you dance based on the mood of the song. If the mood of the song was to be happy, then your dance would portray the idea of happiness. If the song was sad, then the dance style would change to fit the mood.

To me, the thing that moved me while I laid outside was far smaller than the intertwining paths of wind and earth. It was a poem that I had never experienced until this day. The poem is called “I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud” by William Wordsworth. I had read it in the beginning of this school year but had never confronted that side of the wind. And to know what I mean, you need to read the poem.

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.