How else to explain Glasgow's stubborn refusal to rain on the Olympic parade? It would be stretching matters to suggest that an afternoon of watery sunshine constituted the final golden day of an astonishing sporting summer. But it was dry, the wind was not of a force to blow over any of the lorries and it didn't snow.
For that, a city was thankful. This gratitude was shown by the crowds lining the streets. As the lorries carrying the cargo of heroes puttered out of Kelvingrove, the crowds were dense and loud and, although there were patches of clear pavement at the beginning of Sauchiehall Street, the roads were dutifully lined before the convoy arrived at a George Square so packed and raucous that it appeared someone smart had moved Hogmanay to a day when hypothermia would not be an issue.
All open-top bus parades are similar but yesterday's had Glasgow peculiarities. It started with a shriek of pipes that sounded as if someone had trod on a cat. It then trundled through a Glasgow landscape of wonder, wit and occasional poignancy.
The trucks carrying the heroes and heroines could be followed by any willing pedestrian employing a Glasgow swagger, the equivalent of the Spanish paseo but with attitude.
The Olympians were treated to the most absorbing open-top bus tour. The crowd, waving both Union flags and Saltires, were celebrating a Scots contingent that won a record-breaking 14 medals at the London Olympics and took 11 medals at the Paralympics.
At the start of Sauchiehall Street, a group of smokers outside a hostelry bowed in tribute to those who had never even had a fly fag behind the bike shed. As one of the lorries cruised past a bookies, a punter stumbled out, surveyed the Olympic gods and goddesses and one could see the thought forming in his demented napper: ''So that's what a winner looks like.''
There was also the wonderful Weegie aroma as the conveyance of Michael Jamieson, the 200m breaststroke silver medallist from Bishopbriggs, seemed to slow ever so slightly in front of the Blue Lagoon. Being Glasgow, this is not a spa where Jamieson could showcase his nautical skills but a fish and chip shop that emitted a whiff that immediately doubled the body fat of every Olympian in the immediate vicinity.
The crush around Kelvingrove meant the joy of the spectator was dependent on where one was standing or sitting. The joy of the masses cheering on the roadside was in contrast to the expression of the passengers on the No 7 bus to Linwood who were condemned to the realisation that their journey home was becoming a marathon rather than sprint.
Moments before the first lorry – carrying among others Sir Chris Hoy, Britain's most successful Olympian – entered into view spectators were offered an extraordinary opportunity. Two entrepreneurs strode down the side of the road with merchandise piled in a shopping trolley. ''Three Olympic gold medals for a fiver'' was their cry. Many suspected they were not the real thing.
Some were oblivious to the parade. Commuters hurried home unnoticed behind the banks of Olympic fans and one poor soul sat with polystyrene cup proffered, fated never to win gold and hoping instead for a wee bit of silver or some copper.
The trucks rolled on, though, the focus of the sort of roar that was once heard at Hampden before the nation stopped playing football.
Somewhat unusually, there was no rammy. A Glasgow celebration is never quite complete without a falling-out, but the spectators were uniformly supportive and the Olympians stolidly diplomatic.
Hoy had a question replete with controversy dangled before him. Had Alex Salmond tried to recruit him for the Yes campaign? ''I think we will keep politics out of it and just enjoy the day for the celebration it is,'' said the six-time gold medallist metaphorically getting on his bike.
And was he disappointed his friend, Andy Murray, the US Open tennis champion, could not attend?
''I'm sure he'd love to be here today, but his schedule is relentless. He'd love to be in Glasgow standing on the top of the open-top bus taking in the adulation, but he's so determined that he wants to get those [ranking] points so I absolutely understand his reasons for not being here today."
Jamieson was similarly adroit. "He's a busy man and deserves some downtime after last week,'' he said of the Dunblane player.
Any controversy was left untouched in their wake as the athletes spoke proudly and with sincerity about their achievements, and of the reception they had been given.
Katherine Grainger, the intellectual rower who has more degrees than a Glasgow summer day, has travelled far and wide in search of a gold medal. She found silver in Sydney 2000, Athens 2004 and Beijing 2012. London, most specifically the waters of Eton Dorney, provided her with gold.
She returned to her home town yesterday after an enforced exile and was both emotional and thoughtful in her response.
"They are passionate people here, people who understand success and overcoming adversity and the things that make up Olympic sport. It is lovely to come and look them in the eye and thank them for their support," she said.
The roars were long and sustained when the lorries stopped in George Square. The next bus leaving is for Glasgow 2014.
