Silent guns
Posted: Wednesday, 04 June 2008 |
Lyness was once a bustling town, nissen hut streets and khaki clothed servicemen and women doing their bit to keep the home fleet up and running, defended from the seas and skies.
Now it is silent except for the noise of the wind in the grass and the birds in the air.
Railway lines lie rusting in the quayside, guns salvaged from the German Fleet point at nowhere in particular and the hum bumble bees has replaced the hum of aeroplane engines. Grass grows long and lush, filled with wild flowers adding an almost hidden splash of colour.
Nature has begun to reclaim the island, taking back what was only really ever on loan.
Orchid
My obsession with daisies
And again
The air raid shelter is somewhere i had never ventured, but today we went for a wander down inside the dark tunnels. Grassed over bumps on the otherwise flat area betray the presence of something, although quite what is not clear. Descending down the narrow damp enterance the dark gives way to a half light within the mostly dry interior. A sign stencilled onto the concrete so many years ago is still readable, as is the arrow directing people inside the safety of 10 inches of concrete. A red line painted on the wall indicates the boundary of safety, beyond this you are in danger. Slowly decaying stretcher hooks protrude from the smooth gray walls. Walking along the narrow tunnel light enters via a series of skylights, open holes to the air above our heads. A small offshoot room with corrugated concrete walls is a mystery - what was it? A hospital? An office? A co-ordination centre. From the outside it was hardly obvious what a long structure was down here, and finally the exit appears, the small ramp letting us out into the warm air. I feel like i have just walked through the belly of a giant sleeping snake.
Inside the air-raid shelter.
Now it is silent except for the noise of the wind in the grass and the birds in the air.
Railway lines lie rusting in the quayside, guns salvaged from the German Fleet point at nowhere in particular and the hum bumble bees has replaced the hum of aeroplane engines. Grass grows long and lush, filled with wild flowers adding an almost hidden splash of colour.
Nature has begun to reclaim the island, taking back what was only really ever on loan.
Orchid
My obsession with daisies
And again
The air raid shelter is somewhere i had never ventured, but today we went for a wander down inside the dark tunnels. Grassed over bumps on the otherwise flat area betray the presence of something, although quite what is not clear. Descending down the narrow damp enterance the dark gives way to a half light within the mostly dry interior. A sign stencilled onto the concrete so many years ago is still readable, as is the arrow directing people inside the safety of 10 inches of concrete. A red line painted on the wall indicates the boundary of safety, beyond this you are in danger. Slowly decaying stretcher hooks protrude from the smooth gray walls. Walking along the narrow tunnel light enters via a series of skylights, open holes to the air above our heads. A small offshoot room with corrugated concrete walls is a mystery - what was it? A hospital? An office? A co-ordination centre. From the outside it was hardly obvious what a long structure was down here, and finally the exit appears, the small ramp letting us out into the warm air. I feel like i have just walked through the belly of a giant sleeping snake.
Inside the air-raid shelter.
Comments
Last pic's a stunner DoaD...blow it up and submit to a gallery, its more art than photo...it's like a metaphor for liff so it is!
Flying Cat from an admiring glance
Nah, FC, looks like the Underground. # Wild orchid I presume, D of D. Nice pic.# Well written.
mjc from NM,USA
Interesting blog DOAD, I can almost picture being there and then, there it is - a photo!
Carol from IBHQ
Great pics your wild orchid beats my dandelions hands down! In full agreement with flying cat about the last piccy!
old git from sunny lesbury
I'm glad to see some oldgits have poetry in their souls...
Flying Cat from hard stare to New Mexico
Some commentators could use a visit to their friendly local opthalmologists. That pic shows part of Bakerloo station, but I could be wrong: it could be Strand, or more likely - the name says it all - Waterloo. [London, here I come. Mind the gap!!].
mjc from NM,USA
After coming to Orkney in May 2006 for 8 months, somehow I am still here. Running the MV Valkyrie in the summer and helping on the farm in winter is now my life. 
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