I should know better than to go to the Post Office on a Saturday morning particularly at this time of year when the madness descends. The queue was stretching to the door. I may be British (a heady mix of Norman, Anglo-Saxon and a touch of Celt) but I don't stand in line. Life is too short. I took my parcel back to the car and succeeded in upsetting at least one motorist who thought I was going to drive off and leave him a space. I don't queue in car-parks either.
All was not lost however. Even walking around Pershore, a town I've known for over twenty five years, I'm still finding images in unexpected places. I must have walked past the town hall building hundreds of times and never clocked this window reflection before. Another benefit of the mid-winter all-day magic hour.
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