Glasgow is a green city with more trees it seems than people. And it has its weather. When it is hot, the red and blonde sandstone of its architecture reflect the sunlight with an Italian starkness, but usually under a funerary sheet of low, grey, featureless cloud, the same structures acquire a gloomy and melancholy aspect. But it is at night, when its streets are bare and its bars, clubs, cafes and restaurants roar with voices and music, that its avenues, boulevards, bridges, towers and spires, monuments and cemeteries, rivers, canals and streets flanked either side by its terraces of tenements, like the great hulls of moored ships casting shadows in the sulphurous glow of its street lights that I see Glasgow best. Employing deep shadows and slanting perspectives, the city is represented immersed in an eerie, mysterious atmosphere where a lone figure wanders.