May 8

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I never aspire to be up before the sun.

Let alone to be out and about before the sun is up.



Burt had a very restless night, the night after his oral surgery on May 7.

Back and forth.  Here and there.  Panting hard, off and on.

I thought maybe he needed to go for a walk, first thing in the morning, so walk we did.

Several hours later, we walked again.

Burt, me, the camera (that rectangle growing out of my head), and my current book, seen mostly as a triangle above my left shoulder.

Keeping on trucking.

Or moseying, to be more precise.



Little splotchy clouds.

I believe pink anthers mean that this is a pear tree (not an apple).

Tree leaves getting bigger every day.

Tulips.

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