december dread

Tis the time of year for December Dread. Weather is crappy and there are any number of arseholes in town staggering drunk or doing xmas shopping. Office parties and chumps abound. Man it is thoroughly depressing.

I planned an escape. The forecast said today was going to be sunny from 12~3pm. I thought I would cycle to Bonaly with the G3 and take photos of the Pentlands looking white and frosty. However last night the forecast took a nose dive and by this morning the sunny afternoon had disappeared to be replaced with sullen grey skies. I humphed around the house trying to stay away from facebook tedium. (And failing.) Mary came back from a jaunt around the seat and said while it wasn't exactly raining there was a heavy humidity in the air that wet you but it was neither falling nor rising. I laced up the shoes then had to have an extra cup of tea while a heavy shower of drizzle passed. Since I had charged up the bigger camera I took it anyway, carrying it in a zip lock bag till the rain properly stopped. I wore Hokas but was v careful about not slipping and dropping the camera. Holyrood is very soggy currently.

After wintervals on Thursday I came home with properly dirty legs...(the shoes were relatively clean after traipsing round "the edge" of St Margaret's Loch which was doing a little Cumbria.)

It was a pleasure to have the big camera although for panoramas (above) you have to join several shots together by hand, afterwards. This, the so-called Dry Dam.

everywhere was dripping

but the sky brightened and it was possibly the brightest (if not best) part of the day

Highlight of the day was an owl flying overhead. (Left, with crow (right) in hot pursuit. Both smart birds, probably combined intelligence of half a dozen xmas shoppers right there.) I do think brain power slumps at this time of the year. Happily the sparkly lights keep the xmas zombies on Princes St and up the High St. I have not yet been to see that big square block of flashing light shit that Virgin have set out like a giant mouse-brain trap to attract the feeble of thinking. But I saw Jim R's video clip and it was more than enough to persuade me of the fatuous delights. Which is that the money-lenders have built a temple to avarice and there's a choir singing the nativity favourite Lucky. You know "We're up all night to get some" (thanks Caroline for pointing that out.) Well that's Chrismassy. I think if this is the direction we are going, we should at least re-brand Christmas as it has nothing to do with Jesus. Maybe just call it spendy-fucky-drinkathon.