Experience a meditative meander with award-winning photographer Matt Writtle
POP! P-POP!! My daydream was suddenly punctuated by gunfire. POP! I looked up, nothing. POP! P-P-POP, POP! I was more than a little startled.
The echoing cry of a low-flying red kite breaks the silence of the icy breeze. I look skywards towards the clear blue dawn as the bird glides out of sight.
I floated on a wave of calm euphoria down the never-ending hill towards Sheepridge, if I could have bottled that feeling, I would take a sip every day.
As the northern hemisphere gently begins to turn its face away from the sun, the natural world begins its cycle of decline in the interest of preservation.
A monsoon-like rainstorm hammers down on the canopy of trees while I sit, transfixed by the dancing flames gently licking the kettle preparing my morning coffee.
At times of exceptional storm conditions, the Works can legally discharge untreated sewage into the river, affecting the health, people and wildlife that depend on it.