River of gold

The Bela this morning was reflecting gold, picking up the colour of the clouds that were lit by the sun rising behind the hill in Dallam Park. The surface is textured by the wind, and there are a scatter of mallards swimming upstream. This is a familiar view in this journal, but it is ever changing, and that is one of the blessings of blipping, the extraordinary dynamism and transient beauty of familiar places.

Remembrance Day was recognised in the office by a respectful silence at 1100. Other blippers have marked the occasion much better than I could, notably Airborne Skygod whose entry today is a poignant reminder of the sacrifice that his generation of servicemen have made. On this day, I am always mindful of and grateful to my father's generation, the last young men who were conscripted en masse to fight for their country.

And speaking of my father, thank you for all the well wishes that were sent yesterday. I have just spoken to him, and he sounds on good form, and is looking forward to going home tomorrow morning. The old flier is quite indomitable.

Thank you too for all the hearts and stars for yesterday's moon blip. I'm hugely grateful.