An elaborate spring of tulips emerging from tastefully designed beds in a quiet space within a noisy place.
An abbey preparing for special services, with remnants of youngsters input from an Easter just gone.
A Cart winding under a bridge, on whose shore a pair of swans prepare for this year’s birthing.
Buses galore stopping and starting – people milling amidst the fumes and clamour.
Shops once vibrant – closed – shut up- neglected or given over to charity.
A museum in turmoil with little to offer while so much is in transition.
What would they think of this Paisley, the men and women of the last century?
Their work was recognised world wide in shawls of magnificence. Would they recognise this once proud town today?