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Since then, I have become a minor amateur birdwatcher and zone in on all sorts of little thrills in life: the return of the screeching swifts to my street in Kentish Town in April; the guillemots lying their eggs on the Pembrokeshire cliffs in May; a blackbird serenading the prostitutes on Market Road, a thriving red-light disctrict in Islington, on a cold dawn, the first thrilling intimation that spring is coming.
Harry Mount, From Class as to Clematis: Reflections on Growing Up To see a world in a grain of sand,
And a heaven in a wild flower,
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand,
And eternity in an hour.
William Blake, Auguries of InnocenceTags: encounters
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