Tuesday, 5 March 2013

In-situ exploration: Walk 1

Opposite no 154 I feel I reach a boundary. A tree overhangs, moss glints green in the sharp sunlight.
Cars passing, unseeing eyes focus on the road ahead, missing the detail. 

Stinging fingers, iridescent snow, charcoaled footprints

My eyes connect with an old wall and I make a pact; this will be the place to aim for. I begin to question my thought processes, why am I seeking to mark my turning point?

Bus stop: Wagon and Horses 
Is this the old Post Office, transactions have been and gone. 

A dreaming cat reclines, folding its body to the painted wooden surface, sunning itself as the unexpected warmth of the glints against the window. An old tin rubbish bin, evidence of an early method of recycling as the lid, strewn with ragged threads sits atop. 

158 is Vals garden, a place that needs a book to go with the seat, sunned, warming

Fish and Chips, Connelly's staff busy themselves for the onslaught of the day. That point where hunger pangs drive us to a full stop, that's it, we need to consume. 

Chip shop back views Hollin Mill from on high. 

Fingers pricked with coldness, tingling unexpected, pleasantly reassuring and uncomfortable all at once. 

Glen Way

A burdened tree takes its time, rests on old wooden post. Hints of fruit growing limbs: time will tell. 
Old station building

"I would be told never ever "

Emergency help point
Car wash
Fast fit tyres

Ladies walk by chattering, a man reclines on a battered sofa as watery mists drift in the crisp morning air. 
I reach my unplanned destination: Armies Sarnies. 

Tea hot and radio sounds wash over me as I warm. 

"Oh, you won't miss him, he wears a cowboy hat"
"He can't read now, but what he knows, up 'ere ..."

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