Paganism, Permaculture & Poultrykeeping on a Welsh Hillside
Sunday, 22 March 2015
On This Bright Spring Morning
On this bright spring morning I peg out the washing, the sun warm on my back though there's frost in the fields. I listen to the song of small birds, the contented chicken murmurs, the cry of lambs and the sound of distant church bells. I notice the fattening buds on the trees, the hazel catkins and the daffodils raising their faces to the sun. One of the cats rubs against my legs.
All's right with the world on this bright spring morning.