Star struck

A golden star fallen from a circular constellation of 11 others set against an azure sky?

This stranded starfish seemed to sum up the Brexit nadir as I ran on the beach this morning. Nearby was a washed up float and piece of rope. The float was branded “Oh Bouy”. It was a polite way of summing up the current political shambles.

No views. No sun. Rain and then more rain. Later a mist descended on the city like a summer haar - without the sun!

The brave stall holders at the monthly Portobello market in Brighton Place were battling both the elements and the long term closure of Brighton Place.

Later I was in town to volunteer with providing 105 hot meals and company for some of our city’s homeless.

The surgeon who had administered to my “sun dried” ear was pleased with the way that it is recovering.