The Year of the ?Dreich, damp, murk,breathless (wind wise, my lungs are fine thankyou very much) and grisly grey. Welcome 2008. Careful inspection of garden has not revealed any spent rockets so I suspect the Glasga' lot at the bottom of Kirk Lane were not indulging in pyrotechnics early this morning. Deathly quiet in Hutton, but then it always is dqiH
I was not quite in bed by 10pm so saw the Sydney New Year in. So I have no personal images of the New Year arriving in the UK. So I am very indebted to someone who took the trouble to stay up until 7 seconds after midnight to photograph, courtesy of the TV, Big Ben and get the picture onto Flikr before anyone else could. And all from the comfort of her Christmas Sales' armchair. An inspiring shot and next year I might well go out and photograph Duns' answer to Big Ben ( Little Jimmy?)and paste in some Photoshopped fireworks)
If I am spared, of course.
The other image is the Old Manse Garden seeing in-just about, 2008. 'Ou sont les neiges d'antan?' asked the French Poet. Gone with Global warming, every one. But Les Dreichs d'aujourdhui are still very much around.
Labels: Hogmanay, Hutton