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Photos of Wigan
Photos of Wigan

Photo-a-Day Archive
Photo-a-Day Archive

Photo-a-Day  (Tuesday, 26th November, 2019)

Silence is golden

Silence is golden
Playground, Haigh hall.

Photo: Ron Dawber  (Canon PowerShot)
Views: 2,472

Comment by: Johnny on 26th November 2019 at 08:36

Looks like the Teddy seat is keen on bondage ! Lol

Comment by: Julie on 26th November 2019 at 09:51

Just like the 60s and 70s when everything was calm and quiet in Haigh Hall, when I was a young child my dad used to take me every sunday to haigh hall, there wasn't hardly anybody there, but todays generation a bit of sun and everybodys out.

Comment by: irene roberts on 26th November 2019 at 10:50

I can't help thinking of taking my son to Haigh Hall, and this photo brings to mind the words of Robert Louis Stevenson:

For long ago, the truth to say,
He has grown up and gone away,
And it is but a child of air
That lingers in the garden there

Comment by: Mick on 26th November 2019 at 11:02

Your right Julie a bit of sun and everybodys out with there uncontrollable barking dogs.

Comment by: Pat McC on 26th November 2019 at 14:08

This feels a little sad, maybe because there aren’t any children playing on the swings.

Comment by: Poet on 26th November 2019 at 23:46

A fitting quote Irene which made me think on Housman,

"That is the land of lost content,
I see it shining plain.
The happy highways where I went
And cannot come again".

Comment by: DTease on 26th November 2019 at 23:57

That poem has a ring of truth about it Irene.
When I look at photos of myself when a was a child I wonder where that happy, smiling , carefree child has gone. Over the years the everyday cares and woes of life take the spring out of your step and the smile from your face.
When you are a child that carefree outlook on the world comes very easily, when you get older you have to work at it and it’s not the same.

Comment by: Carolaen on 27th November 2019 at 11:46

Unfortunately I think the days of kids in playgrounds seems to nesting out. Opposite our house in Somerset is a playing field. At one and is a lovely playground with swings, slide, climbing frame, rocking horse etc. Its very safe and when our granddaughter was little (about 10 years ago we used to take her over and she thoroughly enjoyed it. However even then we were usually the only people there even on lovely summer days in the school holidays.

Moreover this playground is surrounded by lots of houses with families. Parents seem happy to load the kids into cars to take them miles away or spend fortune on Trampolines in the garden but won't
walk them even across the road to use the playground. Are they frightened of other children ??

Comment by: Veronica on 27th November 2019 at 12:20

I recall taking my two grandchildren to a warehouse play centre on the Industrial Estate near me. It cost a fiver each, for three hours and they thoroughly enjoyed themselves, but I couldn't help thinking it was more for the grown ups to chat and drink coffee and eat their lunches,as there were tables set out and you could order food. It was a treat now and again. I must admit I could read the paper, or knit whilst watching them playing. At the same time I thought, it didn't seem right somehow, although they were playing with other youngsters. I though it's come to something when you pay for children to play with other kids inside rather than outside in the fresh air. A deeply disturbing reflection on the way things have changed today was in my thoughts. No freedom for them as there was for my generation. Very sad...

Comment by: Maureen on 27th November 2019 at 14:25

Yes I agree Veronica..why does everything have to be a moneymaking scheme..I cherish memories of taking my children to Mesnes Park..I could sit on the grass with a book keeping one eye on them as they played on the swings etc..good old freedom is what most of us thrive on..not having to pay a price for the pleasure of Gods own fresh air...give me the good old days any time.

Comment by: Philip G. on 28th November 2019 at 09:34

Keep well, Irene.

Warming is your teary muse
On callow lad, when spry,
And endless joy upon his way;
Your caring 'kind' soars high.

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