Poem; Mum was so clever.

When I gaze outside my window
Unable to go out there,
I want to share with you
Events cast in my mind, like stone.
Most Sundays in the summer
Under a blazing sky, Mum
And I went for walks, across
The field, or up the lanes,
Where I gained my knowledge
Of Nature.
"What's the name of that flower?"
Mum would demand, and if I
Could not remember, she would say,
"I only told you the other day!"
Every grass was named, every tree,
Every bird, every wild flower I
 Learned in those instructive
Hours. "Hold up a piece of grass
 and it will show which
Direction the wind blows"
I was told.
She even named every apple
On the trees, carefully pointing
Out the country code,
First use the ones on the ground,
If there are any to be found.
Even in those hard times she
Would insist, "No collecting birds
Eggs, I would rather see them
Perched in trees, if you please."
And half way up the lane we
Would stop at the well and
Slurp water out of our hands,
It was grand.
And way back then my mother
Bestowed on me a priceless gift
A love of the countryside,
Where beauty still abounds,
All around.
Augustine Nash.