I do, I want to go on holiday. Now, this may be in part due to the horrendous amount of work I ought to be doing (at this very moment), in fact, it maybe entirely for this reason, but whatever. I have it. Last year I went tramping up to Lake Daniels (perhaps tramping overstates what actually occured). Today, as I pulled on my long socks and my thermal singlet, the longing caught me. The fresh air, the toadstools, the little robins unafraid, the great fallen trees, the quiet, the solitude.
Ah, to be out.
Cities are so filthy aren't they? Sometimes I am just so sickened. I would live in the country, if it were more convenient. I get disgusted sometimes at the thought of all the fumes and the rubbish. Urgh.
I wish I could pack a bag and go for a walk to Lake Daniels, where God is evident in every little thing. Last time, I stood on the wharf over the lake and sung hymns.
Then when I looked into the water
I saw the stars had fallen in