This is the day

By wrencottage

The joy of little things ...

A quick blip today, because I have family coming to stay and I'm busy making the house look welcoming. I've been out into the garden and potted up a few cyclamen to see how they do indoors, and I've picked a posy of snowdrops and tête à têtes. They are displayed in a little snowdrop jug which we bought many years ago from a lovely potter called Gordon Fox in Kentmere, near Kendal. His work is delightful, and I love using this jug every year at snowdrop time.

I would rather have a spring posy from the garden any day compared to a big, blowsy bouquet of flowers. As you have probably gathered, I'm a lover of small things ...

For Little Things

Last night I looked across the hills
And through an arch of darkling pine
Low-swung against a limpid west
 I saw a young moon shine.

And as I gazed there blew a wind,
Loosed where the sylvan shadows stir,
Bringing delight to soul and sense
The breath of dying fir.

This morn I saw a dancing host
Of poppies in a garden way,
And straight my heart was mirth-possessed
And I was glad as they.

I heard a song across the sea
As sweet and faint as echoes are,
And glimpsed a poignant happiness
 No care of earth might mar.

Dear God, our life is beautiful
In every splendid gift it brings,
But most I thank Thee humbly for
The joy of little things.



Lucy Maud Montgomery 
1874 - 1942

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