Hi Everyone, sorry for my absence over the last few days, but I had to work, and that meant I didn't get to my laptop.

There was an absolutely gorgeous moon last night, seen through the trees as a magnificent orb surrounded by an aura that looked like a halo being swiftly caressed by passing clouds. When I  got up this morning  there it was in all it's lunar magnificence still as large as life in a pale blue sky.  It brought to mind Wordsworth's poem "A Night Piece" which is shared below. It seems apt to use that on a day when the I heard on the radio that the Queen is hosting a celebration of poets at Buckingham Palace.  I don't know which poets are being honoured by attending the ceremony, I understand there are 100, both  traditional, modern and post modernist.  A lovely moonlight night followed by a beautiful sunny, if cold, day, and woken up to the soft notes of the Masquerade Waltz by Khachaturian, my perfect start to a day.

Off now to make the most of the day, washing on the line is the first task, and then whatever follows.  Speak to you tomorrow and thanks for joining me.   Have a lovely day wherever in the world you are.

Siwzy 

A Night Piece (William Wordsworth)

—The sky is overcast With a continuous cloud of texture close, Heavy and wan, all whitened by the Moon, Which through that veil is indistinctly seen, A dull, contracted circle, yielding light So feebly spread, that not a shadow falls, Chequering the ground—from rock, plant, tree, or tower. At length a pleasant instantaneous gleam Startles the pensive traveller while he treads His lonesome path, with unobserving eye Bent earthwards; he looks up—the clouds are split Asunder,—and above his head he sees The clear Moon, and the glory of the heavens. There, in a black-blue vault she sails along, Followed by multitudes of stars, that, small And sharp, and bright, along the dark abyss Drive as she drives: how fast they wheel away, Yet vanish not!—the wind is in the tree, But they are silent;—still they roll along Immeasurably distant; and the vault, Built round by those white clouds, enormous clouds, Still deepens its unfathomable depth. At length the Vision closes; and the mind, Not undisturbed by the delight it feels, Which slowly settles into peaceful calm, Is left to muse upon the solemn scene