we walked across the duneslack in a small moving pool of sunshine towards one of the blackest skies I have seen for a long time. it was heading north towards Fife periodically split with sudden flashes of lightning, and then as we walked back it turned and lifted, a strip of empty silver air beneath, and moved silently back to the south.

Robert came round to tea with pictures on his mobile phone of a black twister that was travelling beside the M8 halfway between Edinbugh and Glasgow, throwing out bits of field and trees.

And Dave brought me an ancient picnic hamper with a spirit kettle and heavy white crockery held in place with riveted leather straps.