The Iron Gate . . . . .

. . . . . Or part of it.

I had two meetings today in Penicuik, going home for tea in between them. I pass this gate several times a week and had had it in mind for some months as a possible emergency blip. Thus it was, at the wrong side of 10 o'clock, when other blippers were probably fast asleep so that they could be up with the lark for an early morning effort, I was creeping about with camera and flash. The police car went past without its occupants batting an eyelid, perhaps they didn't notice me; even worse, perhaps they knew who I was and that I was mostly harmless.