Stretching out as giant arms into the grey, ironclad if that, representations of the archive, my desire to see them outstretched mere miles from their root. I set about a 10 day task, be in their presence each day, document them and find out what makes them tick. A clear intention and a resolve best thrown into the Lea as mouldy bread rejected by a life with a being purposefully pulling and tugging at a knee. I manage my task twice over the course of its issue.

Nightfalls at 4:30pm find me stubbing my toes with felt anxiety- another day shed and still not closer, nearer to their dominance; a day spent wondering the streets of this city; permanently attached to a pram, unconscious of the hours going by and still my attention doesn’t notice- ‘I’ve yet to document these two cranes’. Forgetfulness is easy to accommodate when your excuse is a small human, dawn breaks and I glimpse the towpath- narrow boats and trees; swans and railings salut my grainy attempt to get closer. The next a darkness as work and baby close the day off without me realising- hours ticked by and these two cranes unnoticed square out the horizon. Park trails no more the object of my eye- these two cranes appear- a glance, up in the glare, I capture the jumble of poles riveted together like a weaving, a doodle in the sky to remind us that the Lea spoke so many languages.

It would be three further days of self-editing, life a loop of commitments and places never far but not in the region of these two cranes. Never going that way- forever up north beyond the Hill or into the Green. Hale high by the by- and I see them again in the sunlight of a crisp day- we’re finally together these two cranes and the life I created; my onwards to the Wetlands to forever scramble the two legs on and on- the cranes point in the direction we are heading- east.

Never seen again, life a litany of doors closed behind me now- locking up the flat and retreat. How not to feel defeat, these two cranes survive each nightfall and glimpses are fleeting. I promise to make more from each dawn in which my intention weaves a place for both humans to exist- guided by these two cranes they send me home northbound but more beyond they ask for expectations to shift, breaking the horizon into parts their grounding also points beyond home and into the new- these two cranes.