I kind of knew that something was happening today out on the Clyde.

It was a beautiful day- one of those soft sunny October days when summer kind of forgets her wrinkles and hitches the tweed skirts and goes for a paddle. And the water was full of boats and sails. Naval vessels like great grey sleek speed boats, tugs pushing a bow wave way above their station and countless craft whose size was proportionate to the wallets of their proud owners.

But there was a kind of hummm to the day that was more than the sum of the distant outboard motors.

And then, I glanced up, and there she was- filling my doorway.

Then I remembered.

The QE2- making her last ever visit to the Clyde- where she was built. In a different age.

When the Clyde still made the best and biggest ships that sailed the seas.

And whole generations lived a life in sight and sound of the shipyards.

Late tonight the mighty ship made its way out again- to a mooring somewhere far away as a floating hotel. Fireworks split to cold night air and temporarily obscured the stars.

And with long mournful blasts on her foghorn, she was gone.