From the elevated position in the bus, I keep seeing scenes to photograph, from the tube train running past a clot of power cables and a decayed futuristic building, to a new development with hoardings proudly proclaiming what they are building half buried in weeds.
Am I scientist or artist? Not that it matters.
And now the rain has arrived. London is damp and dull, clogged with traffic and restless in the drive to make and sell more stuff. How well Brexit frames our confused and hopeful, yet hopeless society.