Never Give Up Hope, Larkfield

Today I decided to go for a walk with my brother through a period of my past. Many years ago (about thirty or so) I got my first job at the paper mill about half a mile or so from where I live. It is on what was then a massive industrial site - it was so large it functioned like a small town. It had shops, a bank, social clubs, football pitches, a nine hole golf course and an East and West canteen (at that time thousands of people worked there).
Even at that stage the paper mill was running fewer paper making machines - I remember one of my jobs was to pick up productivity sheets from the staff working each machine. They were huge, deafeningly noisy things whose rumbles and vibrations you could feel through your feet to all the way out of the top of your head. Sometimes I had to do shift work and pick up the sheets in the middle of the night walking along gangways between the huge voids where some of the other machines had been removed. The combination of the darkness, the vibrations and rumbles could be extremely eerie.
Now of course all that has gone, the paper mill itself finally closed last year and the belching smoke and the all the other industrial processes on the site have, more or less, fallen silent. It's so quiet walking through the site now, but there must be so many ghosts with so many tales left untold. It has now been earmarked for, as nearly always happens round here, yet more housing but I imagine the clearing of this brownfield site will probably take years.
Today's shot is of a methodist church window I spotted at the end of our walk, before a rest and a pint in a nearby pub. I liked how the word HOPE had almost disappeared into the reflections of the day outside but not completely, after all you must never give up hope even when everything seems lost.