Installation Art

I have the post holiday blip blues when nothing novel springs into my I phone lens given that I cannot make myself walk anywhere near the streets clogged by the remaining tourists.

Instead, I walked the other way to Bruntsfield this morning to claim my coffee, avoiding stray airborne golf balls on the Links. It cannot be many City centres with an 18 hole grassy pitch and putt course a mile from the city centre and within spitting distance of the oldest golf tavern in Scotland.

I have a certain degree of cabin fever at the moment not being able to walk by the shore and have the comfort of hearing waves lapping and chugging boats coming and going near the harbour. People, rabbits, squirrels and crows, not forgetting urbanised seagulls, don’t cut the mustard, I’m afraid.

I tut tutted seeing this plastic bottle stuffed int a cotoneaster bush with a bin a few feet away, but decided it was as good for a blip as anything else I had found- a piece of installation art as it were.