He was slowly beginning to slip out of sight. His days in the sun had become memories and he found himself receding into a kind of obscurity. He’d become a grey ghost standing on the sidelines of life. It was not an easy place to be, yet he felt a certain sense of freedom and peace about it – nothing more to prove or to compete with.
There’s something wonderful about ruins. They speak of age, memory and past lives, and stand as a living protest against time’s destruction. There’s a dignity about them, even in their decaying and worn-out appearance.
These ruins are part of the old Scotney Castle in Kent. Loved our visit there. Took this shot with my iPhone.