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Lost agriculture in Edenfield...

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Early September... warm, muggy.. carrying a heavy pack up Gincroft Lane, Edenfield, on the edge of the Rossendale Valley, I'm in the zone, determined to lug my tripod and gear up the killer-hill, turning right onto Sandbeds Lane and further on.. until suddenly in the distance the ruined farmhouse stands, alone, forlorn and battered. Like a scene 50 years after Wuthering Heights, neglected, wild and forgotten. I am on my own, not even a skylark to keep me company.. and I love it. Being up here slows you down.. it's like working with film, waiting for that 10-second of perfect light through the darkening sky, moving around, trying to discover that angle of view which will give this forgotten place the biggest impact.. achieving that sense of isolation is not always easy... although here I am working this location like I have been here a thousand times.. yet this is my first visit. Like many ruined buildings, the draw for me is the complete scene, the interior has long since been stripped of anything historic, the clues to past existence eroded away in the wind and rain and snow, it's the austerity I crave for, the simplicity.. I find these places almost ghostly.. even in the middle of the day. I set my tripod at a very low angle to capture the surprisingly-menacing clouds up ahead.. there isn't much light on the facade as I am shooting almost into the sun.. but this is what I want.. what I came here for.. in a few more years it will be gone, like hundreds of others... like a beautiful book crumbling away into nothing. That romanticism never leaves me, I carry it everywhere, it's merely fuelled by places like this...

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