Folk suburb loves the old speaking in the new, and this castle wall stands hidden in the May and Elder at the end of a road of semi-detacheds. You can step out of the normal car-washing and pressure sprayers, in a Hill Of Dreams kind of way, and climb the footpath that is visible only in a slightly crushed note to the ramsons, and emerge, brushing through the bramble briar, in this hollow, where all is silent except for the start up of a lawnmower somewhere below.
I also like this graffiti, carved rather than sprayed: BUTCH 1982. Suburb folk in itself.
I also like this graffiti, carved rather than sprayed: BUTCH 1982. Suburb folk in itself.
