Photographers are quite mad. Today in London it is raining cats , dogs, and a torrent of seventeenth-century militants. It is the annual commemoration of the regicide of Charles I in 1649 when he met the axeman in Whitehall for his last audience. Actually, he lost his head on January 30 but this is a convenient Sunday. In any case, they have been fiddling with the calendar since then so today is as good as any. Except for the rain.
I have no idea if I will get even one good shot of the assembled Roundheads and Cavaliers but the photographer is ever optimistic. At the very worst I should keep my head.
SOGGY FOOTNOTE: It was indeed teeming with rain and, for the first time ever, I decided to call it a day. There was clearly not much prospect of fun standing in The Mall while a bedraggled parade passed by. Pity, I’ll try again next year.