This is Yoda, trying to decide if the thing in my hand makes it okay for him to jump on the table. It didn't, but he had to try!
A wintery snooze.
Part of the harbour in the background.
He really was a gorgeous buck.
This I think was the real attraction - LUNCH!
The Mower to the Glow-Worms
Ye living lamps, by whose dear light The nightingale does sit so late
And studying all the summer night,
Her matchless songs does meditate;
Ye country comets, that portend
No war, nor prince's funeral.
Shining unto no higher end
Than to presage the grasses'fall;
Ye glow-worms, whose officious flame
To wandering mowers shows the way,
That in the night have lost their aim,
And after foolish fires do stray;
Your courteous lights in vain you waste,
Since Juliana here is come,
For she my mind hath so displaced
That I shall never find my home.
1621 - 1678