Colours, shapes, movement : flowers in the crematorium grounds lashed by wind and rain.
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Dark Satanic Mill
As time goes by and memories fade, there is a tendency to romanticise life in the mills of West Yorkshire (and I'm probably as guilty as...
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I've no idea who the child is or why the donkey seems to have lost its head, but that doesn't matter. It's just one of the pri... -
Y ou can spend too long sat inside reading old newspapers and cataloguing old postcards. There comes a time in the affairs of man when he s...
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