Wind in the trees. Two boys come and watch me draw. ‘Thats braw. Eh’m doing art at school and I want tae go tae Dundee art school’, said one. The other boy said, ‘Nah, its footba’ fae me, jist footba’. They grin and run off. I chat to a woman about the place getting cleaned up and a council man walks by picking up the rubbish wondering what there is to draw here. Then a man comes over and tells me of his childhood spent playing at the burn, about his own artwork and hyper dimensional torsion field physics (I had to write that one down ). That was unexpected.