Far out in the uncharted backwaters of the unfashionable end of the Western Spiral arm of the Galaxy lies a small unregarded yellow sun. Orbiting this at a distance of roughly ninety-eight million miles is an utterly insignificant little blue-green planet whose ape-descended life forms are so amazingly primitive that they still think digital watches are a pretty neat idea.
Couldn't manage to squeeze a leap day photo in (surprisingly few leap year literary references I could find, and fewer that inspired a photograph), so Literary Week progresses with Douglas Adams' observations from The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy and a rather lose link to time.
