“When we awoke it was spring”

The above line is taken from the film ‘London’ by Patrick Keiller.

Spring means more to me than I realise, if I’m foolish enough to let it slip me by. I see it specifically in the former mining areas of South and West Yorkshire, the rolling fields that still separate the sporadic built-up areas, always feel suggestive of my own renewal, social renewal.

I’ve got a lot that I need to put into Spring this year, a pretty hopeless few years and some deeply regrettable moments of self-destruction and self-sabotage, that I seek some resolve and closure on, moving on.

I took this photograph in very early May 2015, walking through Crofton, Wakefield, with my friend Michael Hill. It was the eve of the 2015 general election, a Thursday eve – the time of the optimist (if you ask me) before the realisation of the limitations of the weekend are upon us.

Perhaps things didn’t turn out how we desired that evening, but it sparked new possibilities, both personally and politically. And that’s always there, even after years without hope, a new spring.