Edinburgh │ 30 June 2017

The sky is like a painting without the substance of colour.

It is a two-dimensional whitewash.

It is a con artist depriving us of the leisure of vastness.

It fails to deliver the fluid crux of its magical scenes.

The fight against the insanity of ordinary life is a defining factor of ordinary life.

This turbulent sky, these strange admixtures, these creases of light.

They capture it all in the briefest flurry of the day.