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pfm Picture A Week (PAW) 2021

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Saturday's lockdown fun, rebuild (and slight upgrade to my desktop PC) - new case, more RAM, bigger HDDs, taken with X100F + ProMist 1/4 filter

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Sail lofts at Tollesbury in Essex.

I was delivering a case of wine last week, and was satnavved down a muddy track that terminated with a closed gate and two rather fine but seemingly uninhabited houses. Beyond the gate I could see the mud-flats, and across the estuary in the distance the newly encased decommissoned nuclear power station at Bradwell. I had passed a lone walker, a handsome, fairly elderly man, and as I reversed back out I wound my window down to explain my dilemma. Before I could do so he swung towards me and growled 'We don't like people here, we don't want anybody coming here at all.' He warmed very slighty when I mentioned the name of my client, put me in the right direction, and marched on his way. I felt for a moment as though I had driven into a Steven King book.

As with so many of these estuary villages, the quayside and the moorings out on the saltings promise more than they deliver, odd hints towards the ancient and unchanging overwhelmed by shabby, unloved fibre-glass hulled pleasure yachts decomposing away in the mud, and an air of ungenteel desolation. Overlooking these beautifully maintained sail lofts, which were apparently built to store the sails of the famous J-Class yachts during the winter, is a range of the most appallingly designed and now very tatty 1960s council flats, blocking the view both towards the estuary and back towards the village. The vandalism of the post-war planners and their cohorts in the architectural profession is unforgivable.
 
MYNi3g.jpg



8og87H.jpg


Sail lofts at Tollesbury in Essex.

I was delivering a case of wine last week, and was satnavved down a muddy track that terminated with a closed gate and two rather fine but seemingly uninhabited houses. Beyond the gate I could see the mud-flats, and across the estuary in the distance the newly encased decommissoned nuclear power station at Bradwell. I had passed a lone walker, a handsome, fairly elderly man, and as I reversed back out I wound my window down to explain my dilemma. Before I could do so he swung towards me and growled 'We don't like people here, we don't want anybody coming here at all.' He warmed very slighty when I mentioned the name of my client, put me in the right direction, and marched on his way. I felt for a moment as though I had driven into a Steven King book.

As with so many of these estuary villages, the quayside and the moorings out on the saltings promise more than they deliver, odd hints towards the ancient and unchanging overwhelmed by shabby, unloved fibre-glass hulled pleasure yachts decomposing away in the mud, and an air of ungenteel desolation. Overlooking these beautifully maintained sail lofts, which were apparently built to store the sails of the famous J-Class yachts during the winter, is a range of the most appallingly designed and now very tatty 1960s council flats, blocking the view both towards the estuary and back towards the village. The vandalism of the post-war planners and their cohorts in the architectural profession is unforgivable.
Interesting and interesting shots. Nice!
 
Starting off the new year with wonderful photos again! Not that I expected anything but!
 
Love the top image...I bet the other two are great in colour too...especially the 2nd image..although B&W works great in the last image....for my eyes...

Thank you :)

I did umm and aaah over the middle one and do in fact have a colour version taken from the raw file which I'd admit does look a wee bit better.
 
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