"This is… a perfect day, Jeeves. What's that thing of yours about larks?"
"And I rather think, snails."
"Oh, yes, sir. 'The year's at Spring, the day's at the morn, morning's at seven, the hill-side's dew-pearled –' "
"But the larks, Jeeves? The snails? I'm pretty sure larks and snails entered into it."
"I am coming to the larks and snails, sir. 'The lark's on the wing, the snail's on the thorn –' "
"Now you're talking. And the tab line?"
" 'God's in His Heaven, all's right with the world.' "
Today is my birthday. HIPY PAPY BTHETHDTH THUTHDA BTHUTHDY to me.
To celebrate, I got up at 3:45 this morning to go out and listen to the Dawn Chorus on a farm near Broxburn with some Jesuits. It's a good thing to do, especially for someone like me who lacks self-discipline but wants to improve and be more Godly in simple things, like recognising birdsong or looking silently at the dawning sun.
We saw a couple of larks do their ascend-dive-ascend-dive thing, and welcomed back to the country birds (willow warbler etc.) that had been in Africa till last week. And now I'm 28. I think I might have a bath.