We took ourselves for a city walk yesterday. It was drizzling first thing but we looked at the weather forecast, which said it would dry up from 10am onwards, and decided to believe it. And it was correct: the triumph of science. We got the bus to London Road, the area where my father grew up. According to my aunt (his sister) the reason they moved away down to the seaside was that she fell off a wall just opposite here and the doctor prescribed swimming, to strengthen her arm. So they bought a house near Portobello baths, which led to my mother meeting my father, which eventually led to my brother and me. So thanks, wall.
We wiggled through some streets, including McDonald Road, where my dad was born 97 years ago - and I thought about him. And then we came to this path...
which led to the Botanics. It's definitely spring now. Edinburgh doesn't like to underdo daffodils.
A gushing, if entirely artificial, Highland burn (stream).
We stopped there for lunch, wincing at their punctuation. At least they can spell "inconvenience", unlike some.
Then we wandered through Inverleith Park. You can see the Castle on the horizon. In Edinburgh, you can probably either see the Castle or the sea, and if not, you're likely to be able to see some hills, all of which make it reasonably easy to know which direction you're pointing in. It was much brighter than it looks here; my camera was dazzled by the water.
We stopped to watch two swans building their nest (spring again, you see) in a reasonably equal-opportunities sort of way.
On our way back we walked through the New Town, up Scotland Street. I don't know if anyone who reads this has also read Alexander McCall Smith's Scotland Street stories, but anyway, this is it.
And eventually we were back in London Road, to which I owe my existence. Upon these slender threads do all our existences hang.