My mum loved nature. This is a poem that always reminds me of her.
W. H. Davies
Leisure
WHAT is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare?
No time to stand beneath the boughs,
And stare as long as sheep and cows:
No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass:
No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars, like skies at night:
No time to turn at Beauty’s glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance:
No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began?
A poor life this if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.
I remember times in my childhood where we would stop, mid walk, because mum had found a stream. We would tuck our skirts in our knickers and leave socks and shoes, carelessly, on a nearby boulder before plunging into the icy water. Our clothes would always get damp and our giggles would grow.
Or she would stop atop a hill and smile broadly, looking out at the view as her hands rested on her hips.
One thing I remember is her love of daisies and her sadness at their massacre every Sunday when dad mowed the lawn. And right now I’m sitting a few meters away from that lawn because I have a date tomorrow.
I’ve wanted a daisy tattoo for a very long time, partly because they’re my favourite flower and partly to commemorate mum. Last year I found the artist I wanted to use but (as with all the best ones) she was 250 miles away and booked up months in advance!
Last August I booked an appointment with her and the earliest I could get was tomorrow.
She emailed me today with her design, although not including the colour, and it’s gorgeous!
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