Description

There’s a path near the woods which shelter some remains of an outdated industry. The bricks are shrouded with leaves, the tower is entwined with tendrils, branches smother everything.

There’s a sense of peace and rest. It could be a good place to pass some time on a fair evening. You’d probably never think of the hours and years of backbreaking toil which took place under your feet. You may never have heard of some of the pits and places which were once scenes of the utmost devastation and loss of life.

Soon the weeds will have won and everything will have gone.