Time and Rust Fog swirls, curls around vans, cars, slips ghostlike through bare branches. A neighbour snorts into a handkerchief made (he says) from Greengate cotton. “Yesterday, before the snow, three old horses munched wet grass as I walked through the relics of the Wet Earth Colliery, which on reflection, were beautiful objects of time and rust.”

Relics Yesterday, before the snow, three old horses munched wet grass as I walked through the relics of an abandoned colliery, which on reflection, were beautiful objects of time and rust.