Month: August 2023

Methil Dock 3, the three stands for coal. Once boats were loaded with the black stuff mined from pits along the east coast. I meet Percy and George. Percy feeds the segulls. Both still fish from here. The planked pier stretches out into the North Sea, runs so far then stops where beyond it is too dangerous to walk. George shows me. He tells me about the mining, Thatcher, the devastation. Now in their late seventies George and Percy have known each other since they were fifteen – banter, laughing, piss taking. The sun flickers between the clouds as Percy the seagull follows Percy back to his car to fetch his packed lunch.

It is raining on Sawmill road, past the sheds of the engineering works. Monstrous ironwork forms, their rounded, flattened, angled, perforated bone shapes lie waiting for pick up. Rosebay willowherb and already ripe brambles fringe the roadside . The road sweeps up and over a miniature version of Newcastle’s iconic Tyne bridge, loose, rattly and paint worn. I veer off down a path that follows the river. It reminds me of the Dighty in Dundee, it pleases me. Litter, graffitti, Himalayan balsam, shopping trolleys and ducks all vie for their home here. I turn back as the rain gets heavier to explore another day. I draw the engineering works under the shelter of a wayward sycamore. A small section of verge was at sometime planted with sweet william, marguerites and wallflowers, all straining to be seen amongst the plastic bottles, burger wrappings and pigeon feathers. Someone cared enough to make the smallest of gardens, now almost a memory, here beside a roundabout and a drive thru’ Starbucks.

A new sense of place, not far from my home. I look forward to returning.