Why mess with the master?

My little forays into the garden, during rare quiet moments, really are a joy. They counteract the barely restrained chaos that life seems to be these days. They are minutes where I can wander around, listening to birds singing and bees buzzing; feeling the warmth from whichever animal is standing the closest to me. I can stroke Pio and pat Cousteau, and just enjoy being for a short while.

Then life starts up again, and it's all go.

The perfection of nature is just mind-blowing.

I saw this dandelion clock against the grey fence. I liked it. It blends in well with its surroundings.

I'm off to Mass in a bit, after walking Cousteau.

And the merry-go-round continues.

Night all.