Fuzzy Baby

It's been one of those days that has melted away, with odd bits done on the computer and a beef stew cooked and travel information amalgamated and a good phone chat with my daughter, but at 6:30pm I realized that I didn't have a blip. I think I was subconsciously hoping that the gray weather would break and there might be some blue sky before the day was out, but no, that wasn't on the cards.

So I slipped into the back garden, camera in hand, to look for a blip, and of course the still day suddenly became breezy, and my choices for blips further reduced. Thank goodness for our small apple tree, which is less susceptible to passing zephyrs, and offered this fine little infant apple as a subject.

For those of you who might be laboring under the misconception that our back garden is as tidy as our recently renovated front garden, let me offer this photo I took today of our back garden gate. I just think of that area -- and several others in the back garden -- as a wildlife refuge, and try not to feel guilty about it.

(P.S. Don't miss Phil's poetry blip today -- it has special meaning for him because he was born and raised in Wales, and traveled to India many times over the course of his work at Boeing.)