He was scumbling along a pavement at the bottom of Bridge Street, just beyond the Trefechan Bridge. A man who was standing on the corner pointed him out to me. He was huge. A magnificent beast. And yet, there was a vulnerability to him being there, exposed, as he was, too exposed in that urban setting. A car came round the corner and he scampered across the road and into some undergrowth. As I turned to make my way home I could see his form, cast in shadow, making its way along the bridge. Just for that moment, I had forgotten the wind.
