Beauty in unexpected places

The car has broken down on the edge of the service station on the M4 outside Reading.

While the young man from the AA looks under the bonnet, tuts and makes unintelligible pronouncments, I pick glowing ruby rosehips from the hedge and reflect on the strangeness of life and How Days Turn Out.

Later, at a garage in Basingstoke, he shows me pictures of his dogs and tells me about having to drive to Machynlleth every fortnight, to care for his father who is dying of cancer and his mother who has dementia.