On the day:
20/11/2012
On the way:
The rubbish cart is moored outside the station. It's an impressive vessel - a blue plastic hull with a lidded hold fore and an open one aft, and outboard rigging to hold brooms, rakes and the like. And around it huddles its crew, in their reflective yellow waistcoats, consulting, drinking coffee and skilfully exploding the maritime metaphor.
There's the tall chap leaning forward conspiratorially, his back to the entrance. We'll call him Darth Beech.
Then there's the one with the flatcap, slightly shorter, slightly sturdier, leaning back a bit with a grip on the handles at the back of the cart, Darth Oak.
And finally the short chap, peering over the far side of the cart from under a slumped navy blue beanie, his freckles showing through the dark skin of his cheeks, a bit like a mini Morgan Freeman. Darth Minimorg.
Hey, who ever promised consistency of naming conventions in this blog?
And the cart's cargo? Autumn leaves painstakingly swept from the streets so you the pedestrian doesn't have to suffer the embarrassment of walking into the office with dead foliage stuck to the sole of your shoe or speared by your stiletto.
What kind of leaves, you may ask.
The wrong kind of leaves, of course, just the kind that can be deployed on a railway line near you.
On the pod:
Stand By Me - Oasis
On the front page:
British use of drones at heart of 'secret war' (The Times)
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