Hall

 

I’ve spent the afternoon playing with bits of paper, this was after I photographed the village telephone box which the TCA is renovating into an information centre, book swap and noticeboard.

I am Sat on the stage of the Memorial Hall in silence with only the ghosts of villagers past for company.
The hall has its own distinctive smell. 
Slightly musty, of polish, and wood floors and old doors, and sunlight trapped inside an airless huge room by long windows framed with old fashioned curtains.
I love the smell of the Hall.

It reminds me of all of the above , as well as the Flower Show and of long, tired but happy days in Summer when the tiny cream painted side windows were forced to be opened by the sheer numbers of people in the hall.
I cut photos out and pinned them to the noticeboards and remembered and was almost done when the Velvet Voiced Linda, buoyant Briget and Nick arrived to help set up
Then the ghosts disappeared as the chatter of the modern day villagers filled the space with echoes.






from Going Gently https://ift.tt/gQquFpN

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