Cognitive assonance

R. and I had our outing yesterday, but only by mutual cognitive dissonance. Our arrangement was for a walk up the Water of Leith to see the Mapplethorpe exhibition at the Modern Art Gallery. I was waiting on Stockbridge for her, then realised we'd verbally arranged to meet at the Dean Bridge. I'd fucked up again, and was fumbling on my mobile to explain was a dumbwit I was, when R. sailed up, having made the same mistake.

It was threatening to rain, but that made for less human traffic on the walk. The walkway is deep in a ravine with bridges occasionally rising above to connect the two banks. All the ivy round here is in flower, with green balls like christmas tree decorations. The dogwalkers in the Dean are not friendly like the Braidburn walkers and do not exchange hellos. It's always restorative to see R., and no matter how long the absence we quickly switch back into our easy familiarity and favourite subjects, covering plants, geology, films, love, work.

R. led me on past our usual turn-off to the galleries to the back entrance, where there's an HIV/AIDS memorial. My mum (who volunteers at the AIDS hospice) had phoned me from the spot a few weeks before, when she'd seen a blue heron there. R. and I stopped to for a wee weep and a hug. The empty bench was poignant, and the simple plaque surprisingly moving.
Something on Mapplethorpe later.