It’s midnight, a man sits on a bench on Starch Green, a patch of grass by a roundabout. He nurses a can of Special Brew, a blue bag sits at his feet containing a collection of more cans. He is lit softly from behind by a streetlamp creating a golden halo like the Ready brek kid. He stares ahead at the centre of the green which has of flock of discarded blue bags haunting it, dancing and twisting around in the breeze. There is a bright and almost full moon which gently illuminates the first daffodils of the year as they take their first tentative reaches out of the ground. He studies them with suspicion as if wondering how on earth they got there and what they wanted.
This is a photograph I did take in a disconnected scene but which reminded me of the moment: