When I don't have a book or something to read on public transport then it's whatever is going around me that's going to get my attention.

Bouncing back from Richmond on the 391, I could n't escape the conversation going on in the seat in front. It was two people, clearly somewhere in the warm glow of romance: a tall South African man, quite elegantly dressed in a well made brown three quarter length coat with a lighter brown polo neck underneath; his partner had her hair pinned back ( the seats are so close on the 391, I could see how many pins there were: three.) and was as comfortably dressed as the man.

There was a little, at times, coy, question and answer session going on between them. She wondered what type of clothes he looked, the styles, short sleeves, V necks, long sleeve t shirts, what colours did he like. Like me he was an earth toned creature: browns, chocolates, greens, some shades of blue, and no, he did n't mind if she from time to time pointed something out in store when they were shopping, or even bought the odd item.

Love. What a beautiful thing.