Steps and Stairs

The seaside bonfire last night was a roaring success and I use the words advisedly.

We sat with flasks of tea and coffee, and had a picnic of scones and potatoes baked in the embers, watching the flames leap and then gradually die down as the sun set behind a bank of cloud over Leith and night descended with the only light, a crescent moon and the Edinburgh lights twinkling in the distance. The sky was clear and some stars visible.
We watched the bats flying about and aeroplanes high above coming in to land.
We left when it was so dark we couldn't make out anything other than a glint off the sea. A perfect evening.

And today was perfect too. We went to Port Seton and explored the harbour, with a coffee at the little cafe there, sitting outside in the sun.
We came home by Drem and Longniddry and sat outside the Dower House with a cycling friend who was passing, hearing all his gossip.

As I write this I'm looking out at the Meadows filled to overflowing with groups of people, barbecues smoking, jugglers juggling, tightrope walkers on ropes strung between trees, frisbee throwers, ball kickers and passers by, going home from town.
We also endured an hour of drumming. His Lordship suggested the drummer was perhaps sending a message to his family on the other side of the world, so loud was the sound.

On the plus side, so far I have only seen one youth standing suspiciously behind the nearest tree which passes for a urinal- oh no, make it one more and now a girl too. How brave of her!