The liquid gold of winter sun pulled us up the slopes of Calton Hill. The green copper dome of the old city observatory was closed to the golden sun, but would open its lids to the ocean of stars which would soon follow.
A circular nine pillared temple with views to die for out across the city of Edinburgh. But it was no ancient sacred spot, only a memorial to a philosopher from a few hundred years ago, Dugald Stewart. The light was fading fast and turning to shimmering liquid among the clouds.
Looking across to the East, Arthurs Seat and Salisbury Crags glowed golden in the low late light. Edinburgh and her hills are so closely woven, the shape of the streets moulded by the rocks which have stood watching, unmoving across the years of progress, since glaciers carved this land. Their beauty is timeless and we rested on these slopes, and breathed and watched the light go out of the day, and the stars began to show themselves, as they have done since the earth began.