Big skies are a recurring theme in my posts. What can I say? I'm a sucker for them, and like many people living in Norfolk, the vast sky is one of the things I love most about this county.
I've spent most of the day reflecting on some news and I'm reminded of this poem:
Hope is the thing with feathers
by Emily Dickinson
Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune - without the words,
And never stops at all,
And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.
I've heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.
At times life events can leave you feeling helpless and hopeless but in fact I'm hopeful that something good can come from the news I've received this weekend.
Someone has to take care of the thing with feathers.
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