John Clare has this to say in 'April', in 'The Shepherds Calendar':
"The long lost charm of sparkling dew
Thy gentle birth recieves
And on thy wreathing locks we view
The first infolding leaves
And seeking firstling buds and flowers
The trials of thy skill
Were pastimes of my infant hours
And so they haunt me still..."
A window in time that stays open for me is a minute or two in a Spring morning in the soot-blackened Sheffield of the Fifties. I must have been 4 or 5 years old and was playing in a stone garden with stone walls - all black with soot - with a little friend. We were playing shop, using stones and flowers and whatever was around us. And there was fallen blossom on the black stones.
What i can remember is feeling so full of joy at the beauty of it all. I saw the Paradise the earth was meant to be and will be. Though it took me till I was in my late thirties to start to search for the Creator of it to thank Him.
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