Clyde swans

A dreich afternoon in the West Bay was enlivened by the sight of this swan family, still out for a swim together despite the obvious increase in the cygnets' maturity - do swans eventually refuse to go out with Mum and Dad? Like teenagers? They live around the area of the playground, where the water from the Bishop's Glen enters the Firth, and I suspect they are regularly fed by visitors.

A real sense of "You're not in Kansas anymore" today, as the warmth of the Med was replaced by the windy 14C of a Scottish autumn. Even London yesterday was no different from Argelès - balmy, low, even sunlight as we took off again - reinforcing my conviction that we are a totally different country and ought to be governing ourselves. After all, if I can feel comfortably friendly towards the French Catalonians we met on holiday, I see no reason why political separation should make for poor relationships with our neighbours ...

But I mustn't get political just because I'm home again. Shut up, Blethers, and look at the swans!