I really went off at a tangent there, because I was actually just thinking about how lovely nature is today. There is a verse by Robert Tannahill (1774 - 1810) that sums up to me the joy to be found in the world around us. He was a Scottish poet, a contemporary of Robert Burns. He was born in Paisley in Scotland and was known as the Weaver poet because he was the son of a weaver. It seems he was rather frail man and had a limp so maybe this lack of physical strength heightened his awareness of the joy to be found in nature. I think it is a very pretty poem for a June morning.
The roses fauld their silken leaves,
The foxglove shuts its bell
The honeysuckle and the birk
Spread fragrance through the dell
Let others crowd the giddy court:
Of mirth and revelry;
The simple joys that Nature yields
Are dearer far to me.
Just writing the word foxgloves, reminds me so much of my mum. How she loved those flowers. They grow happily in the woods and are also quite content to be planted in a garden. Their flowers do look like fox gloves and are an ideal refuge place for bees and other insects.