Digital Dorothy

On this day in 1798, Dorothy Wordsworth wrote:

"The green paths down the hill-sides are channels for streams. The young wheat is streaked by silver lines of water running bewteen the ridges, the sheep are gathered together on the slopes. After the wet dark days, the country seems more populous. It peoples itself in the sunbeams. The garden, mimic of spring, is gay with flowers. The purple-starred hepatica spreads itself in the sun, and the clustering snow-drops put forth their white heads, at first upright, ribbed with green, and like a rosebud when completely opened, hanging their heads downwards, but slowly lenthening their slender stems. The slanting woods of an unvarying brown, showing the light through the thin net-work of their upper boughs. Upon the highest ridge of that round hill covered with planted oaks, the shafts of the tree show in the light like the columns of a ruin."

Spring is dead-ahead. Must remember that when its 40 below here.

Wordsworth, Dorothy. "Journal, Written at Alfoxden in 1978." English Romantic Writers. 2nd ed. Ed. David Perkins. Fort Worth: Harcourt Brace, 1995.