The sun is shining here – rare pleasure this August – and, sitting unwillingly at my desk, back to the window, I can hear children playing in the garden next door. The sound reminded me of this, from Burnt Norton:
Sudden in a shaft of sunlight
Even while the dust moves
There rises the hidden laughter
Of children in the foliage
Quick now, here, now, always-
Ridiculous the waste sad time
Stretching before and after.
Ah well, not long till lunchtime.