I looked out of the window on the bus today and saw a young boy walking down the road. His father (at least I assume it was his father) was walking next to him, pushing an old bicycle. They both looked pretty scruffy; kind of poor looking. The boy was carefully clutching a bunch of wild flowers that he must have picked from the fields at the side of the road. I wondered who they were for.. probably his mother.
It's amazing how such simple scenes can reduce you to tears.
Mildly inconvenient, of course, when you're on the number 10 bus.
