The Crying Valley

Lumb Mill Colden Clough adapted from a photograph by Michael Ely

Why did they call it The Crying Valley? The walker skirted a stagnant dam, puzzled.

A derelict mill chimney pinned the bottom of the gorge in shadow. The Pennines hid the sun and the first voice came.

‘I wants my Ma.’

Far from her East End workhouse, a child sobbed.

with thanks to Jill at Lumb Bank