Under the A720 / Straiton

I went out early for a potter about on the bike; flaming June? More haar I'm afraid. So out on my Haary Potter, I made a point of going past the Straiton underpass; work has singulalry failed me this week as I've not been within 5 miles of this, so instead of misappropriating work time, I've had to waste my own valuable time to go and blip this one.

And it's up there with the day Bob Dylan turned eclectic at the Southport Folk Festival in 1966 - exactly 51 years, 9 months and 24 days to the exact date - Cigs goes colour.* I expect a similar booing from sections of the audience who will be dumbfounded by this flagrant breach of Cigs etiquette, but as the Spokeperson of Degeneration, I feel the amazing colours and composition of this one deserve to be seen in all their glory. (Until tomorrow's offering which I stumbled across on Howe Street and armed only with a phone, I figured I may need to revert to type for Saturday's blip. )

All together now 'The answer my friend, is written on the wall, the answer is written on the wall'
 

*Some of these facts may need citations; I copied the info from Wonkipedia so I'm not too sure of the authenticity of them