Friday, 1 March 2013

Moon River

It's a scorcher of a day! In the afternoon, I walk right along Govan Road and at one point, almost take my jacket off, the sun is so warm. A wisecrack says this week's our summer.

As night falls, the sky is illuminated by an enormous orange moon rising over the city. Higher and higher it sails, shrinking and brightening to a radiant white.

Me and his lordship slip through the railing at the graving docks to get a better view of Glasgow in the moonlight and theWaverley steamer, with its smart red and black funnels, anchored on the river. A million shards of glass glitter from their muddy bed, mirroring the zillion twinkling stars encrusted in a cobalt sky.

Busy down here tonight. Half a dozen teenage girls step through the railings, tripping over and giggling, bottles under jackets. One has hair in bunches and denim hotpants over thick black tights, She pushes her pal hard and makes her fall onto the girl in front.
Down the overgrown Stag Street, a squad of lads stand in a circle. They're quietly drinking from their cans, communing with nature on this braw, bricht, moonlicht nicht. One of them snorts and guffaws, one belches and says in posh mockery, "Eh, pardon me" and another howls like a wolf. 

As we leave, a city fox slinks by with a cursory, upward glance and passes on, into the undergrowth along the riverbank.

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