Dundee – where I am watching the Salmond-Darling debate – has been called the Yes city, a stronghold of SNP sentiment.
Like most of Scotland, it has a distinctive Scottish look: dark, sandstone buildings; prickly Gothic spires; Victorian tenements – just look at all those chimneypots in the above picture, showing how many tenements there are beneath the skyline.
The landscape here is distinctively Scottish, too – hills climbing away from the Tay, vast conifer plantations with the geometrical edges that show careful planting.
Both the buildings and the landscape are also distinctively British, too. Scotland’s buildings moved in lockstep with England’s – medieval Gothicism, followed by 17th century classicism, followed by Victorian Gothic Revival. Its landscape is more dramatic but it chimes with the rest of Britain’s – carefully-tended, protected countryside wrapped around villages, towns and cities that have gradually mushroomed over the last millennium or so.
That shared look, with charming idiosyncrasies, comes from 300 years of shared government and 400 years of shared monarchy. It is a divine, communal inheritance. It would be a tragedy to tear it up.