I find the way that St Nick endlessly duplicates himself at this time of year both amusing and mildly sinister (in the way that clowns, or clones, are sinister). You just can’t move for Santas! There’s one waving at passing traffic outside Newington’s “Tree Empire”; another one greets you with a tray of mince pies as you pop into a garage on the A82. They are everywhere: driving buses, delivering mail, selling fish. For me, Santa’s exuberant multiplication sums up the excess that is so characteristic of the season. Unfortunately, I never seem to have my camera at the ready whenever I spot one of these jolly duplicates knocking about town, but here are some wind-up ones.