A Good to be Alive Day

What a difference the sun makes, especially at the end of November, when it is relatively mild into the bargain.

One of the Merry Widows and I took the redoubtable no 26 bus down to Portobello this morning bright and early to saunter along the prom and take the air as they say. We were in no hurry as we knew there was a table booked for us at a newly refurbished café on the High Street.

We admired the view over the somewhat misty Forth to the high rise flats of Kirkcaldy in Fife; we admired the play of light on the beach and the energy and exuberance of the dogs running on the sand; we admired the courage of the ladies sitting drying out on a bench having been in the water for 45 minutes without wet suits and we blethered and blethered as we made our way to the High Street to meet my resident Porty daughter.
She is enjoying a leisurely week before starting a new job and was hosting our coffee meeting. I have installed her in my bubble just so that we could meet with her and still be abiding by the restrictions..

Our bus back home took us on a grand mystery tour of the parts of Edinburgh that I have never seen before and Lochend, Restalrig and Leith were all still bathed in sunshine as we chugged back to the old familiar.

It was a lovely morning : a good to be alive one which consigned the anniversary horrors back into their box for another year.

My extra is of a dog with the most amazing ears!