There is a group on Facebook which, if you use that thing, I recommend you join. It’s called “Brighton Skies” and the description of its page goes like this: “Photos of Brighton skies, sunsets, sunrises, clouds, blue sky, the stars and the moon or interesting things spotted up there. Created by artist Faye Bridgwater”. I stumbled across it a couple of years ago and thought: “ooh, there are some lovely pictures here.” Faye Bridgewater is an artist of whom I confess I had not heard but she runs a lovely website. Or page. Or whatever you call them. You know what I mean.

I am, I admit, a sucker for local FB sites which are mainly devoted to moaning (and often they moan with good reason; but the best moments are when people moan without; or when at least there is an unstable balance between the moaner and the thing being moaned about – that is, everyone is wrong, which makes it funny). There are of course thousands of these so one has to whittle it down and only look at the ones near you. I find the Seaford and Peacehaven pages particularly moving. The Seaford one says “(Official)” after its name which makes me wonder whether it’s a parody, and many of the comments that get published there suggests it is: but it isn’t. Such are the times we live in.

Anyway, never mind them (although I wish them well). What happened was that I posted a photo of the view from my living room. The cloud was heavy overhead until the Rampion Array: then the sky opened and you could see a band of bright light on the horizon. The sun’s rays burst through the broken cloud like a fan. It was extraordinary; and a few seconds later, the clouds moved on and the effect disappeared. But I got the shafts of sunlight and that was good enough. The view was framed by the backs of the houses on Montpelier Road and temple Street. I thought “if this isn’t good enough for a Facebook group called ‘Brighton Skies’ then I don’t know what is.” I added a rubric which went something like: “I live in a tiny expensive flat but I never tire of the view so I’m staying”.

The photo was accepted, of course, because it strictly followed the guidelines set out in the rules of the group. What I wasn’t prepared for was its popularity. The last time I checked, it had 700 likes and counting. This is a small number in the grand scheme of things but for me it counts as going viral.

I was commended by many commentators for being happy with my circumstances but I found that the remarks from the moaners were what really cheered me up. “Call that a view its rubbish” and “those houses could do with a good clean”, etc. And this is why I’m not going to be leaving Facebook any time soon. There is no view so glorious that someone won’t try pissing on it.