Berian

In six months of my new commute to work I've had surprisingly few trials with the trains. But today was one of them. A cancellation and a delay.

But if that hadn't happened, I wouldn't have been lurking in the platform waiting room with my camera looking for a blip to pass the time.

And Berian wouldn't have come over and asked me about my camera, and whether it was a good one, and how expensive and was it my job or my hobby.

And I wouldn't have found out that he was a lovely man, originally from Wales, who considered himself Scottish now after many years, although he still had the valley's lilt.

And he wouldn't have kindly agreed to let me take his picture.

"It's a good camera", he said as we shook hands, "it's got a lovely picture of me in it."