This morning was a morning for the Edinburgh purist.
The sort of person who can see beyond the drips on their nose and focus on the bigger picture, the longer view with which our August capital occasionally beguiles.
Below was the vista from a deserted Roof Terrace atop the National Museum of Scotland.
That’s North Berwick on the horizon.
Looking southwards, the Pentlands offer a tempting promise of fresh air and sunlit uplands.
To the north-west, Edinburgh Castle stands guard over the city. Corstorphine Hill shimmers afar.
Victoria Terrace presented an amusing challenge for those who were not prepared to turn back or wade onwards. Spurtle stood under cover nearby, offering advice and encouragement and waiting for someone to fall in.
Fortunately, a party of 5 Americans obliged by tumbling through the small tree and over the planter before refusing permission for their images to appear online. Spoilsports.
This group of sodden tourists stood motionless and miserable, trapped by torrential rain with a loquacious tour guide.
She, having exhausted her fund of entertaining murder stories, instead regaled customers with some of the worthy but boring bits from her recent final-year History dissertation. It was a long 20 minutes.
Castle Hill was awash with colour and non-waterproof plastic ponchos proclaiming ‘I LOVE SCOTLAND’.
One young couple were blissfully undeterred, smiling and smiling into each other’s smiles even as the brolly collapsed about their ears.
Five minutes later, Spurtle’s camera succumbed to pneumonia. But no matter. Oh, Edinburgh, you were beautiful this morning! What joys spring up beneath your Festive downpours, what pleasures under summer damps!
