Footprints

We all leave footprints behind as we go through life, even snails.
It was another damp, mist enshrouded morning as I made my own footprints along the paths of Marchmont and Bruntsfield early this morning, pondering on how to deal with the curved ball that life has suddenly thrown at His Lordship and me.

However after a coffee at the Ivy on St Andrew Square and some hazy sunshine managing to permeate the gloom, the day brightened up and HL and I could look forward to afternoon tea with neighbours.
How very Morningside!

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