Orgreave Coking Plant was like a working industrial sculpture that greeted visitors to the city as they drove along the Parkway from the M1. A couple of years after I took this photograph it became famous as the site of the famous Battle of Orgreave during the Miner’s strike. Within ten years it had been demolished and the site cleared and redeveloped.
Years and years of sun, gusts and gusts of wind, and the occasional rain that has strayed down off the plain have had their effects on this church carving - but that glimmer of a smile still lingers on.
There is something about the new bits of Spain: it's all surfaces and straight lines. It is like they have been designed using just a handful of instruments from a child's geometry set - on the day the pair of compasses went missing.
Like the sea itself, closeness to the seaside comes in waves: childhood, parenthood and so on. That intimate knowledge of sand, plastic buckets and salty sea-spray can only be experienced through the eyes of the young. Here's to the next wave.
Donkey On The Sand At St Annes (Photo By Frank Fieldhouse, 1941)
The seaside has been a constant since the first day excursion train set out from the first industrial town on a bank holiday Monday. As constant as work and play, sea and sand. This photo features my auntie, Miriam Fieldhouse, during a wartime holiday in St. Annes-on-Sea.
I didn't take all that many colour photographs back in the pre-digital days, but this is a rare one taken at Cleethorpes in the mid 1980s. Even with a colour film loaded, you didn't need an extensive palette in Cleethorpes.