Gursky knew*

Goodbye to Freda and her lovely B&B and up the road to Holywood. There, to join the riff-raff in the queue for the annual opening of the Garden of Cosmic Speculation at Jencks’ country house. I don’t know why we’ve not had an invite to come and view the place and get some ideas for the Granton sculpture garden when the crowds aren’t there. Actually, it’s all rather impressive, and there’s much more than his signature earth mounds. And most enjoyable is the stuff done by the original victorian garden designers, and the plants, actually. I didn’t realise he’d married into the gentry and that his departed wife was Maggie of the Maggie’s Centres. So much I’ve yet to learn - how can that be? I seriously thought I knew everything.
Onward to Crawick Multiverse, up the road, another Jencks creation, this time with the helpful input of a million quid from his pal the Duke of Buccleuch. Actually, it’s really a bit rubbish. Having a blank canvass and then populating it with overblown daftness. "A cosmic landscape worthy of the ancients.” But utterly devoid of any significance. Good views from the top, but then, there always is, for free. 

*representatives of a species, whose mission remains obscure