Smoker's Refuge

Since I started blipping some 400 plus days ago there have been literally only a couple of total washouts. I've now had two such miserable days in succession. Both spent working long hours, going into the office in the rain, coming back in the rain, with very little scope for taking the kind of shots that I like to take. Today, in addition to persistent rain all day, we've also enjoyed persistent strong winds. I've done no cycling. You couldn't really imagine more unpleasant weather in which to be out on the bike.

I pass this pub on my route from the office to the station. I've now walked past it hundreds of times and it doesn't seem to matter what the time of day is there are always people outside this doorway, having a smoke. I'm not a smoker, and there was probably no one happier when smoking was banned from pubs, for I really resented having to always wash my hair after an evening out in order to get rid of the stench of people's cigarettes. However, I do kind of get the camaraderie of a shared smoke. These people always seem to be enjoying themselves, the laughter often raucous, the singing sometimes hilarious. I try not to stare but I'm kind of fascinated by this whole other world that is quite alien to me. A lot of stories must have been told in this doorway, stories of lives very different from mine. I look at these faces, full of character, and somehow yearn to know those stories.