Scamblesby, my second home for seven (going on eight) years. It’s a funny old village, the hall was built in the second world war and is help up at this point by bracing and if there’s a strong gust it’s entirely possible it will fall down, the council aren’t going to replace it because why would they? There’s no-one using it so why should they bother? Totally ignoring the fact that the reason no-one uses it is that it is falling down and damn near dangerous still, total aside. Scam is typical of a village in the county, there’s no such as a ‘local vernacular’ there’s just a bunch of very different houses all built by different people with different ideas of home, different backgrounds and different needs. As such you end up with this smorgasbord of architecture ranging from the pub built a good couple hundred years ago through to the house in IMG_3465 with it’s fake roman pillars and yellow brick.
Also, despite being a tiny village 7 miles from anything resembling a town. Not having a shop and only kind of having a pub (sadly it’s no-longer a particularly friendly place) there is a large livery stable and more than one person in the village owns horses and keeps them on pieces of land (that they own). Our next door neighbour’s for one keep a couple. As for final images, I got an awful lot out of this days shooting, unlike the other places that I visited I know Scamblesby well and I used the advantage of being local (enough) to be able to get onto things (like the salvage yard) with no issues as people either knew me or knew my dad and by proxy that meant I was okay. These images were shot from between about 11am through to the mid afternoon with a break in the middle for lunch. once I had got up to the church and out the back into the field of rape I may or may not have spent a while there taking pictures of not much and just using the excuse of being in the middle of no-where to belt out a few songs… Zero chance that happened.

























































