Last Monday, linking to my Outside Broadcast from Nailsea Thought for the Day, presenter Steve asked me to paint a picture of what I could see. I explained I was in a shop selling local art and ceramics, looking across at the queue for the Post Office and a not yet open bank. It was true and the best I could do at the time.
I could have said:
I am here in a shop window in Nailsea looking across at a shrine to brutalism, a concrete 1970s shopping centre which nobody much likes. The queue for the Post Office, average age deceased, began at 8.20 and has now grown to six ladies with shopping trolleys. I expect one of them is called Ivy. Tumbleweed doesn't grow here anymore.
I love my town but it has a face only a mother could love.