Six years ago I took this photograph.
It’s an image I hold incredibly dear. The brief connection, the house and the abundance of life on display made pressing the shutter very special indeed. Yet while it was special then, it feels even more precious now.
That extra significance came about a couple of years ago, when I passed by again and was shocked to find the building empty and devoid of life.
Fast forward another two years, and it’s now an even sadder sight. Age, its wooden nature and no maintenance whatsoever mean the structure is in a terribly bad way to say the least.
So bad in fact that growing gaps in the walls and windows allowed me to take a few shots inside. An interior that due to Mother Nature making inroads, has developed a kind of decaying beauty. Something about that sink really does appeal. But mostly — just like this bar from a few months ago — the overriding feeling is one of silence, as well as complete and utter emptiness. A place that despite its incredibly ramshackle nature, was once very much a home, whereas now it is little more than a forlorn looking shell.