All to sweetness turns

The smoke's smell, too,
Flowing from where a bonfire burns
The dead, the waste, the dangerous,
And all to sweetness turns.

from Digging - Edward Thomas (1878-1917)

We very rarely have bonfires, but when I've been clutter-clearing personal letters, ancient bank statements, photographs, documents and discarded memorabilia, it's the only way. Some things can't be shredded or composted.

Stuff accumulates until we have a dry day with the wind in the right direction, and then we grit our teeth and go for it. I thought I'd go for a more gritty picture today, although I now have FOUR spotty poppies in the garden, since that first one appeared. And I did spot a baby bird piping its heart out in the middle of a bush (either a robin or a dunnock).

Many thanks to everyone who called yesterday with happy blipday wishes. I had a lovely time reading all those kind and generous comments. I love looking at all your new images each day, too - and I hope I have thanked everyone personally, but forgive me if, in my excitement, I missed you.

Particular thanks to monkey life for the special poem, and a huge thank you to YoungPoet, who introduced me to Blipland two hundred days ago!

An extra blipday bonus: my woodpecker hit the spotlight page AND I was online when the notification came, so I actually saw it spotlit: a first! :-)

Now if you think you detect a tear, please remember... # when you're poll-u-ting the skies ... smoke - gets - in - your eyes ...#