Went up Arthur's Seat (in Edinburgh) to see the the auld custom of rolling birds' eggs down the hill. Dont know what all the wheeling and screaming local birds thought about it. Probably waiting for a quiet moment to get their beaks into the myriad mould-green hardboiled egg yolks lying on the grass.
It was very windy - impossible to hold one's body and camera still enough to focus (that's my excuse and i'm sticking to it). Danny said he nearly got blown off the top, while we waited for him lower down, all our eyewhites and teethwhites and eggwhites coated with flying grits.