Crossing the River Esk in Musselburgh reminded me that I lived along this river all my early life. I played around it, walked around it, swam in its tributaries and in Mussleburgh I watched in flow into the Firth of Forth. There is something about the connectedness of rivers, in London I headed to the Thames and I have been around some of the great rivers of the world. I guess you know where you are when you stand by them - though I have never felt compelled to jump. This is a grey old picture, yesterday was one of those Scottish days that said, 'Don't like the weather, wait five minutes, it'll change.' And change it did, though when I tried to 'run' for shelter in Newhaven, because we couldn't park nearby, were told the high security around the harbour was because the Queen was around (well, I hope she had her brolly come parasol, it was one of those days). Remember when music wasn't a polished, sterile, piece of coal but a rough diamond, mistakes and all - we were just watching the river flow, all tangled up in blue:
