Daffodils move me again

A very old post that didn’t get published in time. Last edited on October 18th and posting today.

The bus driver steered the majestic Volvo into the parking lot. I couldn’t help but spend a second in my head, secretly appreciating the Swedish engineers who built this coach that I had already spent 6 hours in since morning. The buses I had seen till now were nothing like this one. They screeched at turns, they made strange aching noises and it was jaw dropping to hear the multitude of parts howl in unison with every challenge that the pot holed roads threw at them. This one however felt nothing less than being in a luxury car! I drive a small chevy back home and the ease with which the driver was moving this whale of a vehicle changed my view of large automobiles. The fellow students of the university trickled out and set out to explore the village of Grasmere. Since this was our third stop, I was feeling slightly tired and didn’t want to necessarily walk around the whole place. The orange red maple trees contrasting the lush green of the grasslands behind them were too stunning to not gape at and that rekindled for me, the joy of wandering in the North Western English countryside.

 

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