Erica likes to walk up to the park every day to keep her legs working. Millennium Green is her passion and her lifeline.
A space cleared from waste and thorns that had been allotments once. By 1995 she explains, the brambles were twice the height of the patch left wild on the far side from us, which are looking vigorously brutal in the distance. It had fallen into disuse around the same time as the dockyard was having its last hurrah in the early 80s just before the final kick hit home and the lights went out. The old plot boundaries were still just about in evidence, scattered with the inevitable shrapnel of corrugated shelter fragments and lethal rust pockets lurking under nettle cover. Pockets of peace once for demobbed old men likely dead now, all the pride and joy gone out of it.
“There were two paths that crossed it but all the rest was just covered”…
An extract from Meanderthal, October 2020