Tuesday, 6 January 2015

Bleak is beautiful

When you come across a windmill on a grey, slightly drizzly day, you don't automatically think 'how pretty, isn't it beautiful'.

However, hidden in the bleakness of the day, on the exposed hill amongst the scrub, lies something of strength and character, full of history and purpose. The sails may not have been turning, but the windmill stood out in its own glory.

Birkenhead, 2014

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