wingpig

By wingpig

Slow down. It's Saturday morning.

I tell you what... tomorrow morning I'll take my proper tripod with me rather than the mini one so that I don't come back with a cardfull of the usual. Were it not for the low vantage point these two trees and their ongoing argument with the prevailing wind might have been better although I wouldn't have been able to get both the stream and the seat-summit both in frame and there's probably no way of taking a picture of a damp, forgotten and discarded skateboard outside Teviot except at eye level. Plus you have to lug a large tripod around as a discrete entity alongside the camera bag and end up looking a bit weird with a chest criscrossed by nylon straps. Still, in ten years' time we'll all be using anti-gravity hover-tripods as long as these timewasters at CERN and Fermilab get on and detect the graviton now that they've lowered the estimate of the maximum likely energy.

A nice start to the day but it soon went a bit damp. Still, I'd managed to get out in the nice bit and don't mind the nasty bits much although it did mean I had to wrap the old books I was transporting to a second-hand book-selling shop extra-securely so that dampness was not added to their existing poor condition. In fact, the only bad point to the day was the lack of proper muffins in all three of the Tesco branches I checked. "Pile it high WHEN WE CAN BE ARSED" perhaps isn't so snappy a tagline though.

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