How vainly men themselves amaze To win the palm, the oak, or bays; And their incessant labours see Crowned from some single herb, or tree, Whose short and narrow-verged shade Does prudently their toils upbraid; While all flow'rs and all trees do close To weave their garlands of repose. Fair Quiet, have I found thee here, And Innocence, thy sister dear? Mistaken long, I sought you then In busy companies of men. Your sacred plants, if here below, Only among the plants will grow; Society is all but rude To this delicious solitude. The Garden - Andrew Marvell

Hopefully everyone is enjoying their 4th of July...or lazy Friday afternoon for those non-US readers...by stopping and smelling the flowers, grass, clover and all other summer-y, outdoors-y odors that lighten the heart and give you that whole "glad to be alive" feeling that you hear so much about.