Sight (for sore eyes)

What is this life if full of care
We have no time to stand and stare

WH Davies  from his poem Leisure

The above poem, in full, is on the wall in the potting shed.  It helps to be reminded sometimes to appreciate what is all around us.  People who visit the garden often say how lucky I am to work in such a beautiful place.  They’re not wrong.

I was quietly going about my business in the potting shed yesterday when I heard what sounded like a washing machine on the rinse cycle coming from outside.  The perpetrator was a thrush, splashing about merrily in the bird bath, enjoying himself as he bathed in the rain.  Oblivious of his voyeur he continued until disturbed by Hero dashing from the greenhouse, intent on not getting an early shower.



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