On changing trains


Yesterday I changed trains at a country railway station.   I had time to walk right to the end of the platform.

Someone is trying:

The sparrows living under and in the footbridge shouted at one another with sociable vulgarity and the more distant (and more tuneful) blackbirds sang.

Birmingham New Street.  I had forgotten that it is literally a hole:

Lunch was simple but very welcome when I arrived.

I realised that it was the very first time I have eaten out of doors this year; although to take this photo I had to weigh the toast down with a spoon so it wouldn’t blow away.


4 responses »

  1. I think there’s a tunnel at BNS that leads direct to hell. Maybe you can come up with an invention for Dragons den – something to hold your toast from blowing away in a summer gale.

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