My Personal Field of Daffodils

From time to time I experience one of those "Wordsworthian" moments of transcendence. Today it happened after I gave up on taking a nap because Jo was squeaking like a mouse on cocaine who happened to be at a county carnival.
I put Jo in her swing, snuggled her into a blanket and turned on Jordan's Piano Classics CD. I just sat there and watched Jo bat at her toys and chew on her blanket. She cooed when I talked with her, she smiled when I smiled, and we could hear the rain as it gently tapped at her window. In every way it was a perfect moment.
For anyone who does not know, my unfulfilled dream is to travel to London, visit the Lake District, and take a moment to breathe in the scent of Wordsworth's famous daffodil field. There is a study abroad at BYU which does this every Fall, but being married makes this very unpractical. I was deeply disappointed, but life goes on and you get over things.
Although, today I can't help but feeling, that no matter how glorious it would be to visit the home of the Romantic Poets and some of the greatest novelists (Austen and the Brontes) nothing could compare to this moment with my beautiful daughter. Apt 6 has become my own field of Daffodils.

Transcendence comes in unexpected moments. It sweeps you up and forces you to focus on the sublime things still in the world. In many ways it is like hot cocoa for your heart, or a warm cupcake for the soul.

For those of you who do not know who or what poem I am talking about (Shame on you). I have included a copy below.

Wordsworth "Daffodils" - 1804
I WANDER'D 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 stretch'd 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.

P.S. (For anyone who does not yet have a copy of Jordan's CD, I deeply pity you. One may be purchased for $X when contributed to the Camp Family Reunion Fund).
P.S. If you have never read Austen or the Bronte Sisters - get yourself to a library!