Yesterday morning we awoke to fog.
I liked the look of the eerie streetlight through the mist.
So I did what any good blogger would do. I grabbed my camera, threw on my fluffy robe and slipped out to snap some pics.
Usually huge piles of junk are not heaped up along our street.
But its Inorganic Collection time. Which means we clear out our garages and throw out our crap.
That's when the trucks arrive. Or the vans. The cars with trailers.
People poking about in the heaps of broken cast-offs; they dig about for... all kind of things.
Bits of wood. Old TV's. Broken toys. Even a mouldy old baby-seat was lifted by some "upcyclers" in the middle of the night.
Sometime this week the Council will come and pick it all up. In the meantime trucks keep stopping and people keep treasure-hunting. Its to be expected, I guess.
But I didn't expect to find this guy on a Vespa poking about in my neighbour's rubbish pile, early on a misty Monday morning...
Looking professional. So kitted-out. The gloves, the day-glo jacket. The pokey-grippy-grabby stick.
Surprised, I snapped his picture.
Surprised at the snap, he looked up. And froze.
Our eyes locked as we both stood there.
Me in my fluffy robe and slippers oddly wielding a camera.
Him in his day-glo Vespa-gear oddly wielding a grabby-stick.
Then he grinned.
And got on his scooter, buzzing off into the mist.
I wonder what he was looking for...?
{OK I apologise for my use of a few words on my Wordless Wednesday post... but if you know me you'll know that this WAS pretty Wordless by comparison!}