No trips into town. No long walks. No errands. We are having a “reading day” thanks to a large box of poetry and short story texts left at the side of the road outside a storage facility. Did the owner die? Did she rummage in her cubicle and decide to “ make room” ? Whatever the reason, these treasures are giving us so much joy. “Seven Centuries of Verse” is quite something to delve into!

Between stanzas we can look up and see how the old lady who guards the driveway is losing her leaves. They fall slowly as there is not a breath of wind and down they come, broad, sandy-coloured with their own tiny rustle.

Just for today we are detached from gas prices, elections, even our own inner turmoil until … oops, the rooster next door decides to lift his crop and call, call with his loud and rasping crow. John Donne, deal with it!