Ladders from roof to ground, around windows, long,

straight up and down. For fire? For snow? 

Empty streets.

People cycle on pavements, old ladies cycle, old men

cycle, kids, families. A man on rollerblades and ski poles, 

Sunshine warm

Windy

Carrots by water, people sunbathing, seagulls, swallows,

stra, starlings, kids jumping into water. Paddleboarders.

Someone singing Hotel California through amplifier. 

Couple drinking beer mouth the words. Man with

Downs Syndrome stands next to singer and mimes the

drumbeat.

Walk through silver birch, poplar, pine, elder. Poplar

shakes in wind.

Smoke over the water pumps out of power station.

Billowing white into blue skies. I am drawn towards it.

I walk down pathways through park grassland. along rider

water edge. Boats moared. Family talking, discussing

directions to take? I can't understand but recognise 

body language, pointed fingers, paused bodies, two facing

one way, two the other. Birds cheep in trees. Talking. I

don't understand the language but hear a back and forth.

Paths are quieter, I leave city centre, towards the 

billowing smoke. I stop to take video. My phone is slow,

t is thinking, it is full. It can't load. It frustrates me. I

hassle it. Urge it to move faster. Hurry up. I shake it.

I hold arms up and out, steadying myself for one

minute, attempting not to shake, not to move my

muscles, holding my breath, not breathing heavily, I

point the phone towards the billowing smoke. There is

heavy, loud, constant noise, machines, I don't know 

where, closer than smoke tower, behind green trees.

A couple light a Barbeque, smoke billows up, joins the

larger whiter smoke in the air. The smell hits me

the closer I get. It's strong, chemical, weird. It feels

at odds with the birds I hear cheeping, the trees

shimmering in the wind. The smell is intense, I think

of what I'm inhaling. Fumes of what? The noise is

also loud. I see a gap in a line of trees, down a 

forest path. Behind a fence, stacks of timber. The 

noise makes sense suddenly. A timber sawmill, the

machine cutting tree trunks. The saw going down

slicing through wood. Screeching noise. Metal. This

is not the smell. The smell is chemical. This area is

residential. Tower blocks with external ladders. Front

gardens. Swings. Benches. Picnic spots. A skatepark.

The smell. The noise. My camera. It's full. It alerts me to

manage me settings. It can't take any more. I can't

barely either. My body wants to walk the other way.

I pinch my nose. I stop. Open my photos. Scroll through.

Find ones I don't want. Select. Another. I don't remember.

Select. A video my friend sent me. Select. I had 

preciously saved these. Select. Select all. Delete.

I want space. I want space to save these new

videos of billowing smoke, shivering trees, metal on 

wood grinding, birds cheeping, luscious, green blue skies.

I can't capture the smell. I get up to the gates. Security.

Rows of pylons, tall, barriers, fences. I pinch my nose.

I blow out through my mouth. I take an image. No video

here. I feel the presence of cameras. Watching me. 

Why am I stopping? Why am I filming. Frowns, Questions.

An elderly couple edge their way past me, pushing their 

weight into metal-framed strollers. On a sunday afternoon

walk in the sun, I think. How do they manage the smell?

Cyclists ride past me. Can they smell it too? It's

Sunday, does this noise go on all week? All year?

I walk away from the fenced off site. I am not

ready to but also want to leave, my body feels chemical.

I walk up nearby quiet streest, wooden houses, red,

yellow, blue, ladders onto roofs. Quiet, sunny. Smelly.

A young couple, sunglasses, black dress, mobile phones, 

Birds cheeping. Blossom on  elder trees, Swallows.