A Walk Up the Royal Mile

Last week:

A man with a parliamentary pass on a mobile phone saying "committee room two". A group of Japanese taking pictures of each other standing next to the Robert Ferguson statue. A family with a ten-year old and young teen in tow. A red-faced jakey in dreadlocks and a kilt. Four people in matching show t-shirts disappearing down a side close. A group of attractive girls with shades, shorts, tans, and London accents. Indie kids in skinny black jeans and day-glo belts. A swaggering impressario on a mobile phone. Fresh-faced American beefcake. Two men and a woman in bowler hats approaching a pedestrian crossing in line, placing their briefcases down in a premeditated, synchronised move. A pub swallowing a dozen middle-aged tourists. A Japanese girl in knee-high socks and pigtails. The sound of Spanish. So many people at this point I have to step off the pavement to make headway. A crowd gathered around someone performing street drama. A painted Thai girl catching passers-by attention - a Bangkok ladyboy? Heat in the stones, warmth and dryness in the air, colours and crowds.

This week:

A bosky smell of spent vegetation, shivering trees, and the birds have all flown away.