The Widening Gyre

I was out walking down the Dramway the other morning, watching a buzzard flying lazy circles under brooding skies. Whilst specifically designated a ‘hawk’, I could not help but be reminded of the lines of W.B. Yeats’ ‘The Second Coming’:

Turning and turning in the widening gyre   
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere   
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst   
Are full of passionate intensity.
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