Walking to the station in Sheffield to catch the 8:22 to Leeds and on to Hebden Bridge. A first. The early morning warm, muggy, faintly-damp air lends itself to the feel of 'after a monsoon' but it is summer in South Yorkshire. A young man sits opposite me on the Leeds train. He's bright-white shirted with a fold ironed down the sleeves with the neck tightly buttoned and fastened with a small-knot black tie. He reads the local free paper and so do I, or rather I look at the pictures. Somewhere between Sheffield and Wakefield, he takes out a note book and fine-line pen, and starts a line drawing full of architectural detail in a building drawn, not from a book or photograph but, from inside his head. It doesn't take much for me to
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![IMG_0056[1]](/pix/shim.gif "IMG_0056[1]")
