The nasturtiums are aglow. The dahlias are aglow. The chillis are burning brightly as they turn a beautiful shade of fiery red. Even I feel aglow as I contemplate all this autumnal glowiness.
Did you know that nineteenth century scientists believed that nasturtiums contained phosphorus and that they emitted light when they were in shadow? And that if Degas had been allowed to name them, the artists in Paris who became known as les Impressionistes would have been called les Capucines (French for nasturtium) and that the bright flower would have been their emblem? Ah, what a missed opportunity.
(Even as I was taking photos of my nasturtiums in a jam jar, the camera was overwhelmed by the super-vibrant colour and glow that made it diffcult to pick out the lines and contours of the flowers. The scientists may have been proven wrong, but the eye still says they were onto something.)
I know all this now because I have been reading the catalogue of the Impressionist Gardens exhibition. And I have been to see the fabulous nasturtiums painted by Fantin-Latour, Monet, Caillebotte and Guillaumin in the exhibition itself.
Edinburgh isn't the most glowing city ever. In fact, much of its appeal lies in its subtle gloominess, overcast skies, elongated - almost etiolated - buildings, and grey sea-and-stone location.
But even Edinburgh was emitting brightness and basking in soft sunshine on Sunday, and on Monday, when it was typically cloudy and wet on my return visit to the exhibition, I couldn't help but feel that the gallery is the place to go for some glow before the exhibition closes.
It is undeniably spectacular. In very grand, temporarily colourful rooms are about 100 paintings of flowers, gardens, parks, potagers, fields and orchards which fill the space with richness and warmth. It's wonderful to walk round a busy exhibtion and to listen to so many visitors exclaiming with delight. It just doesn't happen with terribly highbrow or conceptual or modern art that you hear people sighing with pleasure, and enthusiastically discussing their favourite picture, the one they would hang up in their own home. It may be popular, middlebrow stuff, but everyone in there was aglow, and that's a nice, warm feeling.