Winterberry

Glory be to God for dappled things –
   For skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow;
      For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim;
Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches’ wings;
   Landscape plotted and pieced – fold, fallow, and plough;
      And áll trádes, their gear and tackle and trim.

All things counter, original, spare, strange;
   Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?)
      With swift, slow; sweet, sour; adazzle, dim;
He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change:
                                Praise him.

Pied Beauty, by Gerard Manley Hopkins


Since yesterday's entry put this poet in mind, why not go with another tried-and-true favorite? 

Today was an astonishing Monday. After weeks of being stressed and understaffed, suddenly the day started with extra substitutes coming out of the woodwork. Then a couple of student absences cleared up the rest of the schedule, and bam! Just like that I was able to squirrel myself away and catch up on all sorts of work that's been weighing so heavily on my mind.