The Towers of the Docks. A mechanised docks. Machines. A few little jobs in Free Trade Zones untouched by law and society. As a child my Dad used to take me in there and you could just drive in. Now borders and gateways and high fences. Bootle was bombed more than any other area of the country in World War Two to stop the Atlantic Convoys supplying the allies. Bootle even had a beach at one time, with sand. Now covered. In the Wire, Frank Sobotka, union man at Baltimore Docks, is opposed to the mechanisation of the docks. Where will all the jobs go, he says...
My Grandad worked in the docks back in the day. He died in 82. Some days he got no work. When times were tough they had no coal.
What a sunset. October 2024, late. Winter approaches. From my front garden, the Church of St. Robert Bellarmine. The school to the right. And all the flora close and distant rise with no way to appreciate the distance of them. Near and far. All reduced to one beautiful shadow in a beautiful dusk.
A wider lens. Here distance is more appreciable.
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