This morning...

Autumn leaves add a splash of colour on this blank, colourless day...

This morning...

The sunshine glints off towerblock windows, reflecting the colour of the autumn leaves below...



This morning...

Seagulls glide through lifeless grey sky, screeching like fishwives,

 as they mirror the white-capped ripples relentlessly clinging to dull grey sea...

this photo is from:

http://www.edinphoto.org.uk/1/1_around_edinburgh_-_musselburgh_-_carbon_print.htm

This evening...

Street Spirit...



The last traces of daylight clung to the streetlights in the alleyway,

desperate to not fade out...



Pavement...

 

The spray paint man hovers in a two dimesional world on the promenade by the sea;

just a few feet away from where the air-sea rescue took place,

last week...

This afternoon...

A pair of wagtails wade round the edge of a muddy puddle,

accompanied by the sound of waves lapping against the wall...

This morning...

The dreary darkness faded and gave way to the pale pink blush creeping across the horizon...

Slow down...

The rush hour traffic hurtles forward,

cutting through the grey with headlights blazing like wolves' eyes;

the taillights of the car in front, their prey.   

(Ok, I know there's no traffic in the photo - I was trying to capture the grey...)

Rapture...

A little boy's hysterical giggles fill Fenwick's toy department.

We follow the laughter and discover him standing rooted to the spot,

enraptured;

as a grinning woman hula-hoops wildly.
We smile as we wander past...

Staring at the sea....

A man sits in the shelter staring out at the concrete grey sea.
Sitting behind him, watching from a concrete wall, is a spray-painted man...

The next day, both men are  still there.

Only this time they sit face to face, animatedly confiding in each other, swapping their stories; 

passing time...

♥



This morning...

I watched a hearse go past, complete with coffin and flowers, followed by a car containing the mourning party.

Half an hour later they went past again.

This time the hearse was empty, apart from a few stray petals, which perfectly matched the colour of the mourners' ties...