The rising sun invades through sycamore branches,
its spotlight picking out a lonely snail,
bedecked in stark contrasting coloured spirals.
The Sun’s dazzling white enlivens grenades
of glass dropped onto the lawn’s lengthening stalks.
Spider zip wires, momentarily made visible,
transverse, fragile yet strong, will shortly vanish.
A gang of boisterous sparrows playing tag
fill me with delight as they shout and switch.
Soon they’ll wake the flowers, who somehow slumber
oblivious to this squadron’s raucous games.
This fleeting action is invigorating.
I drink it deeply, let it permeate,
and pray it will sustain me through the day.

A snapshot through the window this morning as I ate my breakfast. Reading Robert MacFarlane’s introduction to Nan Shepherd’s ‘The Living Mountain’, I’ve been encouraged to look deeper at my surrounds.
(25.04.25)

© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Önder Andinç on Unsplash