A day of two halves

Actually it was more like two thirds and one third, but let's not quibble. This photo was taken from the old railway line that runs from Leith through Ravelston and on to somewhere on the other side of Edinburgh, and we were standing - in a sleety downpour - on a narrow stone arched bridge over a road we often drive down when going from the house of one son to that of the other. We were having a crazy walk with our older grandson who is keen to regain fitness after a footballing injury and seems to enjoy marching around in the wet with his mad grandparents - it was lovely, despite the weather and the soaking garments draped around the house at lunchtime.

My extra photo shows the arrival of better weather from the west. By the time I took it we'd been driving for the best part of 3 hours through a blizzard of proper snow that was lying thickly on either side of the M8 all the way from Edinburgh to just past Harthill. Suddenly the fields were green again, the windscreen merely wet. An hour or so later we were on the ferry and marvelling at the sun on the snowy hills of home. 

It's not often we see better weather here than in Edinburgh; it's a small compensation for missing my family after our short time together before they return to London. Said family, I have to add, accused me of doctoring the photo I sent them of my sunny garden when we finally got home ...