“The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers;
Little we see in Nature that is ours;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon;
The winds that will be howling at all hours,
And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers,
For this, for everything, we are out of tune;
It moves us not.–Great God! I’d rather be
A pagan suckled in a creed outworn;
So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,
Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;
Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea;
Or hear old Triton blow his wreathèd horn.”
I sometimes think of the above poem, by William Wordsworth as I traipse around the shops with their musak and the solicitations of various stores to open a store card account. On returning home it is wonderful to escape into the fresh air, enjoy a walk in the park and forget about the musak, the advertising etc, etc for a while at least.