Another day, another city. Edinburgh, the Water of Leith. The bonny brown ribbon running through the city with its familiar metallic smell, the sun gleaming orange in the water. I recall my childhood at the foot of the Pentlands, where the river begins, playing in the parks and on the old railway line that ran alongside it, then, when I worked at the university, exploring the river paths that passed by my small flat in Stockbridge.
As I stroll into Saunders Street, I come upon a former university colleague, now, I discover, a recently retired professor. We discuss some of the people I used to know; she recounts the varied courses they’ve taken. Times and places, times and people. Water carrying it all along. A tear sits on her check, the cool weather she tells me. I feel liquid inside, the river of memory momentarily stopped, welling up, reminding me of its constancy, its resilience, its renewing presence.
Stockbridge, Edinburgh, Scotland
14th November 2024