Grassy knoll

It was my thirtieth year to heaven
Woke to my hearing from harbour and neighbour wood
And the mussel pooled and the heron
Priested shore
The morning beckon
With water praying and call of seagull and rook
And the knock of sailing boats on the net webbed wall
Myself to set foot
That second
In the still sleeping town and set forth.

Dylan Thomas, 1914-53
Poem in October (extract)

Not my birthday and not early in the morning either but apart from that the extract seemed appropriate. For fathers' day my children gave me the gift of peace and quiet by not being within a hundred miles of me today.

No one else seemed to be around either – probably something I said.