Clare wanted the Astronomer Royal’s house in the middle of Edinburgh. On the same snowy morning I took Winter Dawn down there, I wandered around the Royal Observatory to try and find an angle by which I could take a picture of his Royal StarGazery’s domicile.
Big gates, big walls, big signs telling me to stay away from the big walls and big gates and big telescopes inside, in case I, I don’t know, manage to focus it onto someone else’s house just as they’re showering and I get a glimpse of their winky.
That’s why there’s such security.
Anyway, as such I decided that the Astronomer Royal’s house and surrounding grounds looked rather lovely as a sort of foreboding Victorian asylum or some such.
Moody and brooding.
That’s what the Astronomer Royal’s house is.
Right now it’s down at Mothercare cooing over bootees.
This blog’s gone a bit weird, really, hasn’t it?
Anyway, Clare? Here’s your photo.