Harry

By Monday afternoon my only companion was C, who kindly stopped and turned back when I noticed some colourful stacks of bagged turf I wanted to take a photo of, seeing how the Twelve Bens in the background might make a nice contrast. When we pulled in I saw that there were men working, cutting and laying out the sods to dry. There was a locked cattle-gate, so I waved and gestured at the nearest worker. He waved back and beckoned me in. And here he is: Harry. He was happy to be photographed, and took out a tricolour wig for the occasion (his grin was practically immovable), so I kept chatting and clicking from different angles, knowing I'd probably get something.