This old building can be find right outside of the village where my Folks live; Easton, Cambridgeshire. I run past it a whole bunch and I’m always fascinated by the indefinable vibes I get. The ugly sensations of abandonment. Oddly a guy came round to the house the other day and I showed him the photos and he knew the guy that owns the car. It’s been there donkeys. The building is completely done in. Late 19th Century, with all it’s roof tiles poached. When I was young I used to dream about running away to this building. This particular morning the fog was heavy, I think it supplements it’s eerie yet peaceful qualities. For me this building is like Shel Silverstein’s, The Giving Tree. It’s been with me all my life and always offers me something new each time I return.