The World is too Much with Us
Where It All Goes Down
"The World is too Much with Us" takes place near the ocean somewhere; in fact, it seems a lot like a little speech somebody would give while sitting around a campfire on a remote beach. It's quiet, you can hear the waves coming in, and you can see the moon reflecting off the water because you're so far away from civilization that no street lights prevent you from seeing this natural miracle. In fact, it's one of those places that is so remote (you had to hike over some rough terrain to get here, and all the mosquito bites will be a lasting reminder of the lengths you went to find it) you almost forget about modern technology and start to think about what the world used to look like before it became overpopulated and canvassed with cities.
You've made a camp for the night in a nearby meadow – no way you're walking back through those woods at night – that commands a remarkable view of the sea. If the beach weren't so remote, this meadow, or "lea" as your British friend insists on calling it, would surely have been turned into a parking lot by now. The grass is really soft – "pleasant" is the right word – like nothing you've ever felt before. The comfort of your seat near the fire, coupled with the great view and the perfect weather, cause you to exclaim to yourself, "This is so incredible I would exchange television, electricity, and indoor plumbing if only I could live here."