JERSEY STREET, ANCOATS, 6.07AM
Is the sense of change greater with Autumn than with Spring? As the year ends, the dramatic death of the leaves and the darkened days are perhaps linked more to a fear of the unknown than the hope and anticipation that arrives with May blossom and longer evenings.
I set up my camera at the top end of Jersey Street. The city centre was beyond view here, although it’s almost close enough to walk, and I could imagine that this was an area that was once fields, separate from Manchester, despite the word “Ancoats” glowing neon yellow in the dark on the side of a newly refurbished block of flats just behind me.
Plenty of lights were on in the houses and apartments, although it was only just six o’clock. This was perhaps an area of routine and long hours at work. A man slipped out from his house, no more than a shadow, and got into his car. Someone else smoked a cigarette and pulled up the collar of his jacket, as if being directed in a film, before mounting a bike and setting off towards the main road.
It was peaceful here. The trees moved gently, sturdy and sure in their surroundings. The sky was bursting with fresh colour as the dawn broke. Across the road, a new housing estate was being built. Soon Jersey Street would be full of cars and fresh residents bringing their new ways to an old area. After I’d taken my picture I lingered, as if this might be the last time I’d see this area as it was.
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