A Dream of Nature, by William Langland (ca.1330-1400)

Birds I saw in bushes made nests. Even a simple one no man could ever make. And when and where I wondered if the magpie learned to weave sticks one with another to secure her nest. Carpenters couldn't do anything as good, No designer makes a blueprint for it either. It astonished me even more that many birds hid their eggs, carefully concealed, So that only the parent birds themselves could find them. Some I saw did their breeding high in the trees and hatched their young way up above the ground. Diving birds plumped deep down in swamps, moorland ponds and reed beds, Wherever there was water. 'Dear God,' I cried, 'What school do all these wild things go to, to get such sense?'And then the peacock; I saw how He mated, how roughly the bird went about it. I marvelled at His splendour along with his crude screaming voice. I looked at the sea and on further to the high stars. The whole world was full of wonders too many to put down now, flowers in the fields, their dazzling colours. So many different shades sprung from the same earth and grassy fields, Some bitter to the taste, some sweet. It seemed all one great miracle ranged too wide for me to record but what struck me and set me back was that reason seemed to govern all creatures and how they acted except for man, except for mankind. From Piers Plowman by William Langland, translated by Ronald Tamplin 

Dr. Laurence Wedderburn July 2024