exits shred train

 Buildings must exhale as well as absorb  the breath of human needs.

Standing at the bar of  The Crown at Groombridge Heidi  brushes bits of hedge off the back of my jacket. They are leaves from the hedge against which we must press ourselves to avoid being carried off the narrow pavement by the bus  from which we have alighted and which is just departing. "You've missed one or two," says a man sitting at the bar with his wife. "Take no notice," says the wife; he's rude." We laugh. It's just the sort of observation I might have made.  "Just joking," says the man. "You have the same sense of humour as me," I say. "Have a nice day," says the man as we take our drinks outside.

In Mountfield Road there is a tall camellia with bright red blossoms in bloom at this time of year. Petals fall at its feet and spread across the road like the train of a scarlet dress.