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.