I thought it might be nice to share my first assignment about the red house cone which I completed in April 2016. I had to write a piece about a local attraction using all five senses. The critique I received was very positive but six months down the line I can easily poke holes in it. Enjoy!
The Visit
The slurp, slurp of the coffee machine is strangely comforting on this chilly January afternoon. In this quiet corner of the visitor attraction, the clatter of cups on saucers and the gentle tinkle of the cutlery give the impression of activity. Tables adorned with fabric flowers along with an eclectic mix of light bulbs hidden under identical shades mix the modern with the old.
The cold of the early afternoon is masked by semi-efficient heaters but not removed entirely. Therefore the sweetness and warmth of the hot chocolate topped with helpings of velvety cream and soft marshmallows is very welcome. The long shiny spoon perches in the tall glass inviting you to try the squashy mallows and savour the glow that the chocolaty liquid creates in the pit of your stomach.
Leaving the coffee room you enter a courtyard adorned by multi-coloured handmade signs each advertising the presence of a different artist. High above on top of the majestic glass cone pigeons coo; safe in the knowledge that a sheet of Perspex protects them from plummeting to the ground.
Inside the brick cone an earthy smell greets you; damp and musky and eerily still waiting for the fire to be lit again. Displays show the history of glassmaking; a tradition in the area for the last 200 years. Kilns stand unused at the moment but as Spring emerges these will be lit again so that the tourists can witness the beautiful awe-inspiring skill of glass blowing. The only sound on this quiet wintry day is the gentle flap of the birds above hoping to catch any warmth that may emerge from this ancient relic.
Moving through and out of this monument, hands gliding along the cold metal handrail, you enter modern accommodation. A light airy museum room bridges the old and new. The shop bright, vibrant and cosily warm is filled with pocket money priced brightly coloured trinkets and expensive beautiful bespoke glass pieces which gladden the heart. Customers browse happily; mums slightly tense and vigilant lest a small hand wraps around the smooth glistening glass pieces but all enjoying the beautiful artistry.
This glass fronted building acts as an invitation to those who drive past this industrial site on the brow of the hill. Sometimes these people remember the majestic sight of the blue glass blower adorning a modern building in front of a weathered brick cone and on their day off come back to pay homage to a dying tradition.
Today the canal behind the cone is covered in thin sheets of ice. Ducks and geese waddle across amazed that their watery world is still visible but unobtainable. The tow path once the artery to the area now provides another entrance to the site and picnic tables invite those who wish to linger the opportunity to sit and reflect .
Before I leave to walk the short distance home I turn to look at the skyline behind me. I feel blessed that I live in the shadow of this amazing artefact and that my family have a clear and palpable reminder of their local heritage.
