The end of the day beckons as the sun starts to fall; the good people of old Edinburgh carry on with their business, unabated and in spite of the changing light overhead. As the afternoon turns to evening and the sun falls ever lower over the Corstorphine Hill far beyond, the gentlemen of the New Town make for their warm fires, avoiding the cold chill that still haunts the spring mornings in Edinburgh.
The rain has stopped and the good folks of Edinburgh are delighted to find this coming to pass, such was the ferocity of the storm that hadn’t long since left the capital and not before leaving its mark. Sizable puddles all over the New Town, the cobbles shining as the buildings reflect like little pools of light. The old fared less favourably, roofs leaking and gaps in door frames allowing safe passage for some uninvited and most unwelcome water, the only clean water some residents will access for this evening.
The sun carries on, descending over lower towards the horizon as the birds take their leave for the day and the good people just go about their business. Nothing changes. Nothing is said. Life, continues. Always.
Auld Reekie, sunset.