Sylvie Muir, this is such a lovely choice for “notes from the quiet wild.” The poem’s power is in how little happens outwardly: a train stops, no one arrives, no one leaves, and yet a whole landscape opens through heat, stillness, birdsong, and the name of a place. Sharing it here feels like an invitation to recover the kind of attention that can receive a passing minute as more than interruption. Grateful for the quiet pause this offered.
Wonderful selection, Adlestrop. Lovely to see the dogs run back and forth, the busy white moth, and to hear the crunch on the path. With the soft-spoken words.
Thank you. I wanted to share. It's a special poem to me and it was such a glorious evening, the air was incredible, we’re in the middle of a heat wave and a moment later the heavens opened with this hot tropical rain.
Sylvie Muir, this is such a lovely choice for “notes from the quiet wild.” The poem’s power is in how little happens outwardly: a train stops, no one arrives, no one leaves, and yet a whole landscape opens through heat, stillness, birdsong, and the name of a place. Sharing it here feels like an invitation to recover the kind of attention that can receive a passing minute as more than interruption. Grateful for the quiet pause this offered.
Thank you. Yes it's often in those quiet, still moments where something deeper is known. 💙
Wonderful selection, Adlestrop. Lovely to see the dogs run back and forth, the busy white moth, and to hear the crunch on the path. With the soft-spoken words.
Thank you. I wanted to share. It's a special poem to me and it was such a glorious evening, the air was incredible, we’re in the middle of a heat wave and a moment later the heavens opened with this hot tropical rain.
I can hear the song of that blackbird, wonderful!
Thank you, it was beautiful evening