To every natural form, rock, fruit, or flower,
Even the loose stones that cover the highway,
I gave a moral life; I saw them feel,
In another poem, he writes:
And ‘tis my faith that every flower
Enjoys the air it breathes.
That host of golden daffodils he saw “tossing their heads in sprightly dance” truly were dancing in delight at their own existence; this was no mere poetic description. Wordsworth understood, and I am coming to understand, thanks to his poetry.
I can see the life in my own yard through my own eyes.
For a time I offered thanks to the tree in my yard for its beauty, which may have helped in a small way to encourage its growth. But now that its offspring has grown and branches of both trees are mingling, the mother tree has grown fuller and taller. Seems to me that this growth in not coincidental. Why wouldn’t a tree appreciate companionship, just as we do?