What are Your Spots of Time? by Jude Hopkins, 4/6/25

I remember the day my father took me and my sister to a shady area in the woods close to a creek. We were going fishing with the condition that what we caught, we’d eat. It was a hot Pennsylvania summer day, but the many trees surrounding the creek kept us cool.

I caught a trout; my sister caught a catfish. As promised, when we got home, we would make a meal of our trophies. I don’t remember if my sister finished eating her “bottom feeder,” but at least we could say we caught them.

The day in which this spot of time occurred is what Wordsworth is referencing in “The Prelude”:

Wordsworth’s “spots of time” are moments that stick with us because they remind us of something pleasant, usually set in nature. The fact that I remember that morning many years later speaks to the power of such times of "tranquil restoration."

As someone who had a rather tempestuous relationship with her father, I remember that fishing moment as one imbued with calmness and love. My father became the patient teacher, baiting the hook on my fishing pole, showing me what to do if a fish tugged on the line. The trees surrounding me were a deep green, indicative of full summer before sweet violets sicken. The creek was flowing robustly, cold to the touch.

That day, my father was what I had always envisioned to be the real thing. Gone were the many days and nights of fighting he often brought into the house. He was patient and loving and content.

Unfortunately, that spot of time didn’t last. He soon defaulted to the restless, yearning, unpredictable part of his nature. But the fact that he could spend part of a day being “perfect” only showed me what he was capable of had he wanted it.  That moment, that “spot of time,” is forever with me. Wordsworth says that we remember such times when we’re “depressed by false opinion and contentious thoughts” or find ourselves “in trivial occupations,” and by thinking of such scenes, we can be "renovated and nourished and repaired.  Such memories enable us to lift us up.”

I've had other spots of time. An autumnal beam of sunshine on one Halloween afternoon when I was in sixth grade. Another autumn day, this time walking through the fallen leaves with someone I felt sure I loved. Days of winter when snow muffled noise and lacy ice decorated the trees have become other spots of time. A moment looking at the sunlight dance on the Pacific Ocean was another memorable moment I often recall.

One of Wordsworth’s “spots of time” was his second visit to the ruins of Tintern Abbey, located on the River Wye between England and Wales, which he wrote about in his poem "Lines Written a Few Miles above Tintern Abbey."

Tintern Abbey

Wordsworth writes in this poem the following:

Excerpt from Wordsworth's "Lines Written a Few Miles above Tintern Abbey"

In this poem, Wordsworth describes the soothing effect remembering this scene had upon his spirit, even when he was far away, affording him a "tranquil restoration" and "life and food / For future years."

What is customary with these memorable moments is the fact that messy life precedes and succeeds them. But the time stilled within these memories remains untouched.

Which brings me to another point: How much do our inward thoughts play a part in our lives? And how much do we revert to our own personal spots of time when we're feeling depressed or overwhelmed? It's true that people often wish to time-travel back to such moments when they are trapped at work or bored or lonely. But to what extent do we think about what made these reminiscences so indelible? Is reflection even a part of most people's busy lives? It should be.

I think that what makes these remembered moments so special is their ability to make what is ordinary so extraordinary, to revisit a scene cradled in the familiar and find that it was, and is, nothing short of miraculous in its power to lift us when fallen.