Dianthus barbatus

After a long sleep it made a nice change to wake up and find Mr H in situ. I headed out across town for a yoga session, getting there with some difficulty due to the gathering of various groupings for "Armed Forces Day" but possibly also an Orange march (I heard the latter interpretation from an old gent on one of the several buses I jumped on). Anyhoo, the yoga was good, if a trifle challenging, and Polly and D kindly gave me a lift back to Leith as they were heading for Tiso for some important outdoors-type shopping!

I walked along to Ocean Terminal via the Water of Leith, to check out whether John V d G's moorhen was still there. She had left, and the man on the bench who we talked to last week said that one of her babes had been taken by the gulls. :-( That was before he'd had to go off to work and by the time he returned on Thursday the nest was abandoned. I hope at least one of the little fellers made it. Someone (else?) appears to be building a new nest nearby, though.

Ocean Terminal was tricky to negotiate - there seemed to be numerous slow-moving persons of large size forming hazards on the landings and blockages on the escalators. Then the bus back was full to the gunwales again, every other passenger needing to be told that they needed the correct change etc etc. I guess it must be summer.

I am normally impervious to impulse buys, but once a year the supermarket puts bunches of sweet williams for £1 each in a bucket by the till. I cannot resist them, with their lovely whiskery flower heads and delicate but oh-so-specific scent. À la recherche du temps perdu, Mr Harding!