This bollard, with its strange markings and expressive cavity is to be found on the roadside between Mount Pleasant and the entrance to Calverley Grounds. If it were a piece of sculpture rather than a neglected parking deterrent, people would come from far away to see it and remark on its human pathos and resonance.
In a flower bed in the front garden of a house in Belgrove, are some red tulips, which, now that their petals have opened and become loose, resemble flames.
Mr Crow, in the Grove, is enjoying the softness of the ground after the rain. Head in the air, he waddles up and down, no longer showing any interest in searching for worms. Instead, it is the pleasure of territory which he enjoys. "Mine, mine mine," he says to himself. And nobody challenges him.