TO STAND AND STARE

This morning the clouds were low, as were the birds and Martins, Swallows and Swifts were zooming round above the garden, snatching insects on the wing. As a Swift hurtled by he lost a feather which took an age to drift down from the sky. I watched and watched and thought it would be blown on the wind and lost to me, but at last it fluttered to the ground just inside the garden. The feather was so soft, so nothing, and yet so vibrantly blue on its edges. But now the Swift had lost it. I wish the little bird well on its long journey to Africa, God speed. I shall miss you and look forward to your return next Spring.


What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.
No time to stand beneath the boughs
And stare as long as sheep or cows.
No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.
No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars, like skies at night.
No time to turn at Beauty's glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance.
No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began.
A poor life this is if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.

Willaim H Davies