Rich and Poor

On my way home from work I cycle alongside a high stone wall, with trees just visible the other side.

I wouldn't normally give them a second glance, except that today I glimpsed that the leaves had suddenly - as far as I was aware - turned a deep, rich red.

Without a second thought, the blipper in me nipped round the corner, through the entrance-way, and in to snap the scene before the sun went down.

Only then did I realise where I was: I'd barged my way into All Saints Convent, to the polite confusion of a small, elderly group of Little Sisters of the Poor!