The Peace Of Wild Things

A glorious morning. I heard 'dee-diddly, dee-diddly, dee-diddly' as I walked around the lake and managed the best images I have ever achieved of a goldcrest. It was a male. The rear view in my main pic shows the orange feathers underneath its golden crest, I've never seen this before. It can be seen singing its heart out in my extras. 

I read The Peace Of Wild Things by Wendell Berry in the paper this morning.
When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

Very calming after anxious family time.

We don't have wood drakes in the UK but there was a new drake on the lake today, white with a little curl of tail feathers like a mallard, probably a hybrid. It was picking fights with the regular drakes.

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