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Our Sense of Place

Our Sense of Place

Back in the 1990s I visited the United Kingdom with some friends. We were on an organized bus tour and one of our quick stops was Grasmere. While the majority of my fellow tourists made a beeline for Beatrix Potter’s cottage, I strode with purpose to the home of poet William Wordsworth. “I wandered lonely as a cloud That floats on high o’er vales and hills, When all at once a saw a crowd, A host, of golden daffodils …” The beginning of one of my favorite poems, so beloved in part because it presents such a strong sense of

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