THERE I was, taking in the sunshine on The Moor in Falmouth, when I spotted a gathering of street people, all of them a trifle worse for wear, with one staggering around with a bottle in hand, swigging from it while haranguing passers-by on British politics and world affairs.
In fact, street people are becoming an ever more familiar sight in West Country towns, kipping down in the doorways of empty shops, assembling on public squares, and sometimes begging for alms from those more fortunate than themselves.
However precarious their financial state, they always seem to have a bottle or three to hand. Anyway, this is a non-judgmental depiction of the dossing community, gazing out on an unsympathetic world through bleary eyes. It's called simply Street People.