It is never my lot to “trifle around with a poem” the way Mary very profitably does, but I know about the thrill of getting unstuck and running (after a fashion) out the door. Just wandering in the garden often changes my mood drastically. Rain is falling here at this moment, and watering my being.
WORK, SOMETIMES
I was sad all day, and why not. There I was, books piled
on both sides of the table, paper stacked up, words
falling off my tongue.
The robins had been a long time singing, and now it
was beginning to rain.
What are we sure of? Happiness isn’t a town on a map,
or an early arrival, or a job well done, but good work
ongoing. Which is not likely to be the trifling around
with a poem.
Then it began raining hard, and the flowers in the yard
were full of lively fragrance.
You have had days like this, no doubt. And wasn’t it
wonderful, finally, to leave the room? Ah, what a
moment!
As for myself, I swung the door open. And there was
the wordless, singing world. And I ran for my life.
-Mary Oliver
Gladsome Lights 
I didn’t know this poem, but as soon as I read it, I thought of another of her poems: Going to Walden.
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You have chosen a very apt poem for this post: it reflects how I feel so often – surrounded by papers or things that require my attention. That is when I like to escape to the garden with tea and a notebook to watch birds for a while.
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Is this a photo of your garden? What a lovely place to wander about in for a mood change! We should all do exactly that more often.
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Yes it is.
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I agree, happiness isn’t a destination, its what you do everyday and the small pleasures that make you feel alive.
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