Yesterday, as the day drew to a close, the sun set on my old primary school grounds, now currently a building site.
Old sites; new sites: in the end they all slip into darkness.
Yesterday Manchester was blue.
Taken in the early 1880’s, this is one of the earliest images of the East End of London.
I love the way the children appear insubstantial and ghost-like, which in effect they are. Lingering echoes of lives long lost, wandering along now vanished streets.
. . . my children in our local shopping centre. Take it away, kids!
Another one of those old photographs that I love. A young woman standing on top of a wash tub. At first glance it appears from her stance that she is displaying no little attitude.
But close up you see a playful smile.
Maybe she stands on that tub to fit into the shot the plant on the window ledge behind her.
Of more interest, though, is the little girl in the background: the spy; the photobomber; maybe awaiting her turn.
Next in line for a photograph now lost to time’s censor.
However here she survives, perhaps only here: the eternal spy; the photobomber; the girl who intrudes. Pushing herself forward for 21st Century eyes.