The big smoke

Another week done. Shattered. I usually come out on Fridays thinking of this …

Another race hath been, and other palms are won.
Thanks to the human heart by which we live,
Thanks to its tenderness, its joys, and fears,
To me the meanest flower that blows can give
Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.

From Wordsworth’s ’Intimations of Immortality’

Occurred to me this evening how like a prayer it is.