Throwing shapes

There's a guy on Brighton seafront who spends all day making shapes in a big patch of gravel near the bandstand. At first I thought he was homeless but then I noticed he cycles in from somewhere each day. He's got a rake and makes very neat patterns, often circles. Sometimes he plants plastic flowers round the edge. Then he comes back the next day and starts again.

Rufus barks at him a lot so we often have a conversation. He is very clever and articulate. For the first few minutes it seems quite normal and then you realise he's off in his own head. I think he has some kind of mental illness. There's room for everyone in the world, isn't there?