I was on the road to Ystradfellte looking for berries, had parked the car and was walking back up the road, there were plenty of sloes and hawthorn berries but they had gone over and it was a bit too breezy anyway so I sauntered back on the other side of the road, still full of misplaced optimism. I then noticed signs of a party on the wide grass verge, empty bottles and cans of lager. I think it is sad that people can go to the trouble of carrying the makings of their party to their chosen site but they then do not have the decency to carry it all back with them.
Anyway in the middle of this rubbish was this sad little scene - there must be a story behind it somewhere.

Any offers?