Red door,blue door...

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I saw these two doors in Pwllheli. The red one is in the arched entrance to what I think was probably an old coaching house - there was a cobbled yard behind the arch. The blue one is in the centre of the town down what we call Windy Alley - it is a funnel for the wind in winter.

I like their dilapidation, the layer-on-layer of flaking paint scars that they bear, the crumbling brick and cement of their surrounds, the locks, knobs and hinges, the initials scratched into the plasterwork – their decay.

These doors make me wonder… who made those scratched initials, where do these doors lead, what’s behind them? Perhaps they open onto a flight of steep stairs that climb up to a glass observatory on a midnight roof, or a dark, windowless room containing nothing but a dusty rocking chair, or a long narrow passageway leading who knows where?

I wonder?