Unveiling the forgotten

Welcome, intrepid explorer, to Chapter II of the Unseen World – "The Unseen World of The Forgotten". Prepare to delve deeper into realms shrouded in mystery, where echoes of the past and present and untold secrets lie waiting. This chapter promises a journey filled with excitement, poignant calm, and dramatic revelations, plus a few water colours form my good lady wife.

Are you ready to uncover what has been left behind?

The Abandoned World in Infrared

Beyond the reach of human sight,
the quiet spectrum waits.

Green leaves ignite into silver flame,
the sky collapses into velvet dark,
and ruins breathe in a language
longer than light we know.

Walls remember.
Windows watch.
Rust blushes beneath an unseen sun.

In infrared,
abandonment is not decay—
it is revelation.

What the eye forgets,
the sensor reveals:
a world still burning softly
in wavelengths of silence.

Up The Creek

Skippool Creek is a tidal creek on the River Wyre near Thornton-Cleveleys, lying about 3 miles upstream from where the river meets the Irish Sea. It’s a short branch off Main Dyke that flows into the Wyre estuary.

Today, Skippool Creek is no longer a commercial port. The old mud berths and jetties serve mainly as moorings for small craft and the creek has a somewhat picturesque, quiet character with old vessels often visible in the mud.

At the creek at Skippool where the tide slips thin,
Rust eats the ribs of the boats drawn in.
Derelict moorings lean and sigh,
Ropes like ghosts in the salted sky.

Hulls lie open to wind and rain,
Their names long washed by time and stain.
Once they carried the morning’s catch,
Now reeds grow through each splintered hatch.

The creek keeps watch in silver light,
Cradling wrecks through day and night—
And every tide that turns the shore
Whispers of what they were before.