Mmm, with the earlier blog post being a journal for the trip, I thought penning down my thoughts about the trip would probably be a good idea.
The thought of Lake District started after seeing a friend’s snaps of the place and it was a place that was closer to my interests when it comes to a location. I love places with scenic beauty and love long drives. Travelling the miles and trying to put them to words is a task that should be left to the professionals of Nat Geo ;), may be, but I for one cannot help but make an amateur attempt.
Gazing at the myriad stars, I fell back on a child hood memory of me gazing at the stars out of my window. Watching the moon and the stars somehow was a soothing experience and one picture of absolute serenity and after moving into a new apartment, that has become a thing of past and I craved for those experiences again. That journey gave me that experience and I did catch a shut eye of thirty odd minutes, in my own dream land, with the stars offering me solace, that music failed to give, on that night. Though the music was soothing, a few thoughts running wild in my heart were causing a flutter and all I wanted was a solace of a peaceful heart, which the stars offered me, whispering their choicest sounds and lulling me to sleep, in their embrace.
Opening the brass knob and entering the place took me for another ride. The house was a picture of beauty and elegance. The living room was a page from a Mauve Binchy novel , classic, elegant and old. Walking through the steps and surveying the rooms with a critical acclaim allowed me to give a rating of first class, for the softness and the homeliness the cottage offered. A quick walk down the garden early morning was simply and truly beautiful. How would it have been, had I had a chance of just staying at that place for a day, with no impending plans of exploring the place? I would have probably got up at a diving hour and made a cup of coffee and stood on the railing of the back yard and sipped the coffee with a lethargic haste and relaxed myself thoroughly. For one such morning, I would give anything.
With the miles behind me and the screens of the place competing with each other for the brilliance, I was thrilled that I am actually having a holiday at a hill station, a holiday that I have only seen in movies or in my dreams. The breath of fresh air and the intake of cool air, challenging me to put it in words, I agree I am defeated when it comes to expressing them in words. The place simply was astounding and words only fall short of describing the beauty of the place. A Da Vinci canvas cannot do justice to the place, Wordsworth words are not sufficient to describe the place, and I, a minion can certainly can’t. All I can say is that it left a lasting impression for the times to come.
The thought of Lake District started after seeing a friend’s snaps of the place and it was a place that was closer to my interests when it comes to a location. I love places with scenic beauty and love long drives. Travelling the miles and trying to put them to words is a task that should be left to the professionals of Nat Geo ;), may be, but I for one cannot help but make an amateur attempt.
Gazing at the myriad stars, I fell back on a child hood memory of me gazing at the stars out of my window. Watching the moon and the stars somehow was a soothing experience and one picture of absolute serenity and after moving into a new apartment, that has become a thing of past and I craved for those experiences again. That journey gave me that experience and I did catch a shut eye of thirty odd minutes, in my own dream land, with the stars offering me solace, that music failed to give, on that night. Though the music was soothing, a few thoughts running wild in my heart were causing a flutter and all I wanted was a solace of a peaceful heart, which the stars offered me, whispering their choicest sounds and lulling me to sleep, in their embrace.
Opening the brass knob and entering the place took me for another ride. The house was a picture of beauty and elegance. The living room was a page from a Mauve Binchy novel , classic, elegant and old. Walking through the steps and surveying the rooms with a critical acclaim allowed me to give a rating of first class, for the softness and the homeliness the cottage offered. A quick walk down the garden early morning was simply and truly beautiful. How would it have been, had I had a chance of just staying at that place for a day, with no impending plans of exploring the place? I would have probably got up at a diving hour and made a cup of coffee and stood on the railing of the back yard and sipped the coffee with a lethargic haste and relaxed myself thoroughly. For one such morning, I would give anything.
With the miles behind me and the screens of the place competing with each other for the brilliance, I was thrilled that I am actually having a holiday at a hill station, a holiday that I have only seen in movies or in my dreams. The breath of fresh air and the intake of cool air, challenging me to put it in words, I agree I am defeated when it comes to expressing them in words. The place simply was astounding and words only fall short of describing the beauty of the place. A Da Vinci canvas cannot do justice to the place, Wordsworth words are not sufficient to describe the place, and I, a minion can certainly can’t. All I can say is that it left a lasting impression for the times to come.
Comments
lake District is about experience, not about words, it is about feelings, not about beauty. U got to be here to feel what I felt :D...
I am not a good writer, am I? :(, unable to take the audience breath away to this place... Unfortunately...