“The village sits frozen in time, surrounded by idyllic countryside, showcasing the enduring spirit of a once-thriving community while serving as a living testament to the sacrifices made in the name of national defence.” (Source)
One day, your government comes along and tells you they need your village, yes, your whole village, for the war effort, and they will give it back to you when the war is over. But they never do. So to make that sound a lot better and commend you for not making a fuss, they call it a sacrifice. You left your farm tools, your bike, your tractor and your cottage by the sea.
Did you spot the number on the hill?
You cannot go on a lot of the land around here. The red flags wave gaily in the breeze telling you not to. Here is why
You are looking at the twisted metal casing of an exploded old shell.
The land at least stays free from an excess of human traffic, which is good for birds and butterflies etc. So long as nothing blows up of course. You can walk, on weekends, over some of it, but it’s a good idea to keep to the paths!
A sense of bitter sweet melancholy is palpable at Tyneham. The bright blue sea, the sense of desolation, the instruments of human war and those of nature so closely jumbled together.
Thank you for being here with me, as I experiment with my photographs.
I look forward to engaging with you in comments about anything or everything.
Here is a link to a previous post if you haven’t heard this poem from me yet.
And, if it is your sort of thing, here is an audio (10 minute listen) of a short story, written and read by me, which you might enjoy. Make a cuppa and give it a go.
This is stunning April
Such a sad story told in those photos. Beautiful, but melancholy. Makes one think of what happened to all the people who lived there...