TCWG SHort story Journal 4

Finding Solace

Hello everyone,

just a quick entry today ,
Here is my poem for the day by John Dryden (1631 - 1700) an English poet born in the delightfully named town of Alwinkle in Northamptonshire.
He lived through the Plague and the Fire of London.

As if the cares of human life were few
We seek out new,
And follow fate which would too fast pursue.
See how on every bough the birds express
In their sweet notes their happiness.
They all enjoy and nothing spare,
But on their Mother Nature lay their care;
Why then should man, the lord of all below,
Such trouble choose to know
As none of all his subjects undergo.


I hope you like it and find solace in reading a verse that makes us listen carefully to the birds singing on a spring day and fill our hearts with joy.

Just a reminder to wash your hands. This was the first thing we were told to do to protect ourselves. In Italy sixty seconds, In Britain sing happy birthday twice. I love washing hands with little ones, watching the bubbles get more and more abundant and making squishy noises.
Some people made fun of this, of course we wash our hands, how absurd to be told to wash our hands, but of course we don't wash hands afte the shopping, or touching a door knob, or a hand rail or pushing a lift button, well now we do, now we must.