The sunshine slopes languorously between the trees, tinging far-off leaves gold against the rain-blue Autumn clouds. Arthur's Seat is already in shadow, a hump of early gloom while the pre-sunset glow still bathes the Meadows.
I'll miss this light. I'll miss this town.
I'm leaving Edinburgh soon, the city I've made my home this last eight years. London is calling; my family has been ageing and expanding without me, and I hear there are jobs down there that pay actual money, industries that barely exist up here. It may not be paved with gold, but it doesn't have Edinburgh's problem of being overstocked with hugely talented and qualified people who are here because they love it, so they'll take whatever work they can get just to stay in such a place.