Graffiti and rust

When my son was small he was obsessed with trains and we spent toe-numbingly boring hours on the railway bridge at the end of our (London) road. Friends thought I was turning him into a train spotter; I consoled myself for my tedium by hoping that I was curing him of any such tendencies. Not that I object to train spotters - the one I saw yesterday, while I was - um - hanging about on the railway bridge, seemed perfectly OK. (Had a nice camera too.)

This rusty graffiti is from our nearest (Oxford) railway bridge. Having spotted it on Friday, I was planning to blip it yesterday, but then I saw the irresistible dinosaurs plodding through the primeval forest. So I went back to the bridge today to take it again.

I'm going to spend the next few days as far from the railway as I can, before my (now adult - and definitely not a train spotter) son finds out where I've been all these hours. Too embarrassing.