Reflections of reflections

As I passed this well-polished Harley in Marchmont, it wasn't immediately obvious where the reflections started. Most likely overlooked by a proud owner in one of the tenements seen in the polished steel, I may have been watched as I gave the bike the attention it deserved. So clear was the image of the windows behind, that you might have expected to make eye contact with such a person.

I'm a reflective person by nature. If only my reflections on life shared such clarity. But there is more polishing required for that.