This splendid photo, taken by my friend Ms Brightshades back in January when she came to watch over me after my operation, shows the level crossing which dominates a lot of life in Swanvale Halt, as the residents are compelled to wait while a train goes through. Or two. And occasionally three.
I was here this morning on my way down to lock the Steeple House after its few hours serving the spiritual needs of wanderers and passersby (and it had, I had evidence). My eye was cast to the centre-left of this image, just left of the block of flats in the middle. There is a yard here and someone has put up a basketball net. Today the basketball net was being repositioned. The person carrying it seemed undecided as to where it should go, as it moved to and fro several times, no conclusion come to.
However because of the hedge, that individual, whoever they were, remained unseen. From my point of observation, all that could be seen was the net and board itself, bobbing backwards and forwards seemingly of its own volition. You see what I mean, don't you? I was going to draw the attention of the woman standing near me to it as she might also be intrigued, but then a train went past and, when it had gone, there was no sign of the miraculous basketball net. It was as though it had never happened.
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