Windflower

I went for a walk down to the river and headed towards Stainton this morning. I watched a treecreeper for ages pulling at a bit of sheep’s wool that had got caught in the bark of a tree, presumably for its nest. As I passed wood anemones, a scattering of primroses and marsh marigolds I planned a major expedition. It will be into uncharted territory, into other worlds and another time, I will need to do some preparations ... equipment, provisions, route and contingency planning, prepare for the natives, they may not be friendly, I may be able to find and record new species. I will definitely need little cakes, and wine.
https://www.blipfoto.com/entry/2695391763966723186
Then back to work on the garden ... all this physical stuff...I can hardly move now.

Ode on Solitude - Alexander Pope

Happy the man, whose wish and care
A few paternal acres bound,
Content to breathe his native air,
In his own ground.

Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread,
Whose flocks supply him with attire,
Whose trees in summer yield him shade,
In winter fire.

Blest, who can unconcernedly find
Hours, days, and years slide soft away,
In health of body, peace of mind,
Quiet by day,

Sound sleep by night; study and ease,
Together mixed; sweet recreation;
And innocence, which most does please,
With meditation.

Thus let me live, unseen, unknown;
Thus unlamented let me die;
Steal from the world, and not a stone
Tell where I lie.