Wednesday, 26 August 2009


I walk across the threshold between King George's Field and Clay Pits every day -- if the short area has a name, I'm not sure what it is.

As well as duming trolleys, eating Pot Noodles and kicking saplings in half, the youths in this area also seem to hate bins.

Each bin in the area is rooted to the ground with large pieces of concrete, but as can be seen above, if you look closely, this doesn't help. With enough effort the bins can be rocked back and forth until the entire bin, along with its concrete foundation, comes loose. It can then be tipped up and emptied, rolled into the road...

That wasn't enough in this bin's case, though. In this case, the plastic outer shell was shattered, which meant that the inner the metal sleeve could be removed and stamped flat, ensuring that the bin would never be useable again.

The Local Authority, in its wisdom, has not replaced the broken parts of the bin, choosing instead to place the base of the bin back in it's spot.

Adorably, the bin remains in use. People walking past still drop their rubbish into the base as though the rest of the bin was still there. This serves as yet another example of the presence of ghosts in Braintree: in this case the ghost of the bin.

I was walking to work, so it would have been about 7:09am when I took this.

Tuesday, 25 August 2009


I walk across King George's Field every day.

Recently, I've been worried about the effect that the various rituals, perpetuated by youths, are having on the area.

But I'd forgotten about the local Authority. I mean, they were the ones who made a ghost of the original playground. But I thought that was it.

But now they've done this. And I have no idea what it means. Numerous lines of sand dragged across the field. Some of them look like they have perforations into the grounds running through them.

And this feels like the first stage of a larger work. That these lines are the both initiation and the foundation for something more radical.

And it's also hard not to imagine what these lines look like from above, viewed from the air. Which leads me to further worry, because the next step is to imagine what would be viewing these lines from the air.

I was walking to work, so it would have been about 7:10am when I took this.

Friday, 21 August 2009

On Eardley Crescent

Courtesy of the wonderful Andy T Geezer (and his equally wonderful lady friend):

"This was taken by my girlfriend on the way home to her house and sent on to me to send to you for Trolleys. She particularly like the sign...

"Dumping prohibited. Offenders will be prosecuted"

As I have a puerile mind, the phrase 'Dumping prohibited' has more than one meaning -- the ironic one, because someone's dumped that trolley, and of course the other, which infers that people are prohibited from doing poos near the sign.

Even posh people dump trolleys

Courtesy of Andy T Geezer:

"I was out in West Hampstead just the other day and saw this trolley dumped in a strange place and thought of you."

Sunday, 16 August 2009

Ninety Degree Tree

I walk down London Wall every day.

Now, there's nothing very profound left to say about London, which is most of the reason that I haven't mentioned it as part of my daily journey before.

Hundreds of writers more talented than myself have spent their time thinking about what makes London special, what makes it wonderful, what makes it awful, what makes it tick and so on and so forth.

But I can't help feeling that this tree has been under represented.

It has grown with a gap in it which allows peopleof up to just over 6' tall to pass underneath without stooping, and this gap has grown at a right angle. We see right angles everywhere, but that's because people who make things love them -- I can't think of many places that they appear in nature.

But there's this one.

I was walking home late at night, so it would have been about 2250 when I took this.