What is life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare?

No time to stand beneath the boughs
And stare as long as sheep or cows.

Now time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.

Not time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars, like skies at night.

Not time to turn at Beauty's glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance.

No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began.

A poor life this, if full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.

I read this the other day and somehow it seemed to illustrate part of the Thanksgiving Season to me.

I enjoy gardening, and when breath is bated, I often stand and stare. I think this is one of the reasons I enjoy it so much, time alone to study the beauty and watch the squirrel as the words of Beecher come to mind -

Yonder is a red squirrel on the ground, utterly without fear, and prying about in that pert and nimble way that always makes me laugh. They are so proud of their tails too! They always hold them up, and coquette with them as a lady twirls and flourishes her fan. And though when running on the ground, or peeping about for seeds, they trail them at full length, yet they never sit down for a moment without closing up this important member as if they feared that something would step on it.

Poem by W. H. Davies - Photo by Sergio Pessolano