You could do worse than...

What is the best way to spend the day?  You could do worse than...

To sit on rocks, to muse o'er flood and fell,

To slowly trace the forest's shady scene,
Where things that own not man's dominion dwell,
And mortal foot hath ne'er or rarely been;

To climb the trackless mountain all unseen,
With the wild flock that never needs a fold;

Alone o'er steeps and foaming falls to lean;

This is not solitude, 'tis but to hold
Converse with Nature's charms, and view her stores unrolled.

 

(extract from Solitude, Lord Byron)

Little Lambs

The cold bare hand of winter still grips the landscape but signs of new life are emerging as tiny buds begin to appear on the branches, and the daffodils and snowdrops sway in the sunlight.  Of all the indicators that spring is on the threshold, the sight of new-born lambs are surely the most endearing.

Yesterday, I stood and watched as five tiny lambs wobbled and teetered, trying to control and co-ordinate their long gangly legs and master the art of walking and running. They ran, skipped, jumped, bumped into each other, fell on the grass and their bleating sounded to me like childish laughter; young creatures enjoying being alive.  I could not help but smile and I walked home with spring in my heart.

Little Lamb, who made thee
Does thou know who made thee
Gave thee life & bid thee feed.
By the stream & o'er the mead;
Gave thee clothing of delight,
Softest clothing woolly bright;
Gave thee such a tender voice.
Making all the vales rejoice:
Little Lamb who made thee
Does thou know who made thee

Little Lamb I'll tell thee,
Little Lamb I'll tell thee;
He is called by thy name,
For he calls himself a Lamb:
He is meek & he is mild,
He became a little child
I a child & thou a lamb,
We are called by His name,
Little Lamb God bless thee,
Little Lamb God bless thee.

(William Blake)

The Joys of Walking

"WANDER a whole summer if you can.  Thousands of God's blessings will search you and soak you as if you were a sponge, and the big days will go by uncounted.  If you are business-tangled and so burdened by duty that only weeks can be got out of the heavy laden year, give a month at least. The time will not be taken from the sum of life. Instead of shortening, it will indefinitely lengthen it and make you truly immortal.  But in every walk with Nature one receives far more than he seeks.  I only went out for a walk, and finally concluded to stay out till sundown, for going out, I found, was really going in."  

(John  Muir, 1838-1914) 

 Eskdale, Cumbria looking towards the Scafells and Bowfell