Bathed in Light

A couple of days ago, Gargoyle reprimanded me for not showing the leeks that went with the crate image. So here they are, romantically bathed in the late evening sun, the pastel-tinged sky silhouetting Bredon Hill in the distance and the undisturbed pools of rainwater in the ditch reflecting the tranquillity above. Or some such nonsense.

Talking of romantically bathed in light, if you were ever under the impression that the television cameraman's lot was all beer and donuts, think again. Away from the frozen wastes of the racetrack, the baying crowds of the football stadium or the windy expanses of the golf course, the usual habitat of these sports specialists, life is still a struggle. Even in the relative comfort of the studio, it can get a bit parky around the nether regions and these intrepid men of vision gather around a blazing fire, awaiting the call of the wild. Or, more accurately, the plaintive call of the floor manager- 'Cameramen on cans, please'.