On the weekend D and I went for another walk through City the New Town down almost all the way to where the the Water of Leith (which we visited back in the winter, as it flows through the Dean Village) opens out into the Firth of Forth. Here are just a few pictures from the first part of the journey, where flowers were rampant. A bit of calm, after yesterday’s madness.
The days that seemed as if they would never come in the midst of the dank cobble, the white-sky, ice-blue sky winters, are finally here. An excess of budding, of life returning, though the air is still sweet and cold even in the sunshine.
Even as I hope for time to pass, for news on my first book, for progress in my second, there is this: nature, slowly and in spurts, vividly following the cycle of the year. Daylight stretches out – dark now only after a long gloaming, past eight thirty pm – I will wait. I will pay attention.
Hope is easier in Spring.