Walking in the rain

Before turning to other matters, the events in Paris on Friday are dominating the news right now. It is hard to summon up thoughts to encapsulate the horror of what happened. Other people, many others, have tried. The victims’ families and friends who are grieving deserve our thoughts and prayers right now. Air strikes and victimising a whole religion because of the actions of some fucking nutters, that’s not the way to go. I really don’t know what to think about it all. The comedian John Oliver summed it up well the other night. Find the clip online, if you can.

I am starting this post standing on a platform at Waverley Station in Edinburgh. I am heading home from watching Hibs play Livingston at Easter Road. (2-1 Hibs but they were not at their best tonight). It’s late at night and to be honest I just want to go home. Naturally the train is taking a longer route back to Glasgow due to engineering work, via Falkirk Grahamston and Cumbernauld. At some point I will write here about Cumbernauld but not tonight. It’s no’ nice.

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That’s a picture out the window at Waverley, just before the train left. On-the-spot blogging here, folks.

Anyway, what I actually wanted to write about tonight was walking in the rain. It has rained a lot the last few days – Storm Abigail is one name for it, another is Scotland in November. It was properly horrible when I left Glasgow earlier though the rain was a bit lighter when I got to Edinburgh. I had time to kill before the game so ended up taking a very long, meandering walk to Easter Road via the New Town, not particularly caring about the rain, just enjoying putting one foot in front of another for a while. I know the capital well anyway but this particular walk covered terrain I often covered on day trips in the past, when I often went to Edinburgh from Dunbar, very often on grounds of cost. I often went on drifting walks through the New Town, following the concept of psychogeography, the derive or aimless drift, following my impulses in turning this way or that before eventually figuring out where eventually I was heading. Tonight I headed down Frederick Street towards St Vincent Street and the old church at its foot, before turning right towards Canonmills. I walked along Eyre Place towards Broughton Road, eventually hitting Leith Walk from McDonald Road. I was still too early and headed up the Walk to London Road, Easter Road and finally Albion Road leading me to the Holy Ground.

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The walk itself didn’t yield much spiritual insight or some great idea. Not all walks have to. The main benefit was just to walk and to be out in the world a while. Plus being out of Glasgow, even being in a different part of Edinburgh, loosened me up a bit. Since I came back from holiday, I haven’t been very far, except Edinburgh, and a change of scenery helps no end, as it did tonight.

At Linlithgow now. Another place I will write about another time.

Walking in the rain is not bad, when it is light. Sometimes, in our climate, you have to go with what it’s like on the day. Fortunately our capital looks nice in most weathers and it was good to spend the time this evening. Even better because of James Keatings, though. Night, night

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