There’s no such thing as a crap town, only crap travellers. We celebrate unheralded areas from Warrington to Elephant & Castle
It’s not so much a mist as a murk, a weakness of light due to the late season and lowering sky. Mirroring the grasping hands of wintry trees are bare branches plunged into still water, in turn reflected there. I think of flooded forests on the upper Amazon. I’m in Warrington. If the juxtaposition seems silly or funny, that’s not my problem.
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