A passage about human exsistence

This is an extract from the book I am reading, Tess of the D'Urbevilles by Thomas Hardy, which I found really moving.  It is in reference to the death of Tess's new born illegitimate child. She has named it Sorrow.

So passed away Sorrow the Undesired - that intrusive creature, that bastard gift of shameless Nature, who respects not the social law; a waif to whom eternal Time had been a matter of days merely, who knew not that such things as years and centuries ever were; to whom the cottage interior was the universe, the week's weather climate, new-born babyhood human existence, and the instinct to suck human knowledge. 

I think though the events are tragic and unfortunate this passage is actually really beautiful and wonderfully describes the innocence of infancy.

Evolution

£2 coin; given to me on the bus today.

When I was younger I spent hours debating over dinner with my family about why we needed money.

Why couldn't we all just be nice to each other and exchange goods and skills?

I still don't understand economics.

In A Box

Eu gosto de apanhar legumes

Today I cycled through the morning mist to join in hoeing and weeding and harvesting (my favourite past-time) in the glorious greenery of the Dundee Botanical Gardens.

My fresh stash

Who would have thought getting my hands a little muddy could make me so happy!  It reminds me of being back in France in the sun shine and without a care in the world; even if it started to rain very hard about 30 minutes in...
During the rain we sheltered inside the hot-house with the cactus and ate cake. That was also delightful.

Cycling along made me realise I am very unfit. -_-

Sunlit studying

Moth on Wall

A Poem

The Hug

It was your birthday, we had drunk and dined
Half of the night with our old friend
Who'd showed us in the end
To a bed I reached in one drunk stride.
Already I lay snug,
And drowsy with the wine dozed on one side.

I dozed, I slept. My sleep broke on a hug,
Suddenly, from behind,
In which the full lengths of our bodies pressed:
Your instep to my heel,
My shoulder-blades against your chest.
It was not sex, but I could feel
The whole strength of your body set,
Or braced, to mine,
And locking me to you
As if we were still twenty-two
When our grand passion had not yet
Become familial.
My quick sleep had deleted all
Of intervening time and place.
I only knew
The stay of your secure firm dry embrace.

Thom Gunn