Every so often, something small turns up that takes you right back in time. Recently, while going through some old boxes, I stumbled across a couple of photos I hadn’t seen in decades — from around 1987 or ’88.

They were taken somewhere around the Easterhouse area, back when the streets looked a little different and life felt a bit slower. One photo in particular caught my eye — a man in a hat, shovel in hand, hard at work on the road. There was something about it that stopped me for a moment. Maybe it was the look of quiet focus, or just the sense of an ordinary day caught in a fleeting frame.

I’d completely forgotten I even had these pictures, and honestly thought they were long lost. Finding them again felt like uncovering a tiny gem — a reminder of a place, a time, and the people who helped shape it.

I’ve often wondered who he was, that road worker in the photo. Maybe someone out there might recognise him — a neighbour, a friend, a relative from back then. It would be great to put a name to that face after all these years.

Either way, it’s a lovely reminder that even the most ordinary snapshots can hold extraordinary stories — all waiting quietly to be rediscovered.