Time to stand and stare

There is a strip of the kitchen garden that is in the north wall's shadow and gets no sun at this time of year. Yesterday's heavy frost had turned the entire garden white. Most melted away during the day, but at sundown, and again this morning, the strip remained a brilliant contrast against the soil brown.

The day started cloudy, but the sun was out by mid-morning, and it was a joy to go foraging among the piles of willow cords for logs that we could burn in the refectory stove. Later in the afternoon, I had a few minutes spare to stand and watch the birds... or just to stand. The wind had a bit of an enlivening bite to it, but the wintery light soothed my eyes and mind. The sky stayed clear, and gave us a spectacular sunset over the Malverns. It's a starlit night; we'll have another frost.

Leisure, by WH Davies

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 if, full of care,

We have no time to stand and stare.