Bristol UK Aerial Photographs and Tourist Attractions: aerial photography interpretation

Author:   Llewelyn Pritchard, M.A.
Publisher:   Createspace Independent Publishing Platform
Volume:   16
ISBN:  

9781494312015


Pages:   32
Publication Date:   28 November 2013
Format:   Paperback
Availability:   In stock   Availability explained
We have confirmation that this item is in stock with the supplier. It will be ordered in for you and dispatched immediately.

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Bristol UK Aerial Photographs and Tourist Attractions: aerial photography interpretation


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Overview

Aerial photographs and tourist attractions of Bristol, England, (Great Britain) United Kingdom taken on 5 August 2011. Front Cover view of the Floating Harbour, Bristol City Centre looking in a south-easterly direction. [aerial photography interpretation] [Bengali Edition]

Full Product Details

Author:   Llewelyn Pritchard, M.A.
Publisher:   Createspace Independent Publishing Platform
Imprint:   Createspace Independent Publishing Platform
Volume:   16
Dimensions:   Width: 15.20cm , Height: 0.20cm , Length: 22.90cm
Weight:   0.059kg
ISBN:  

9781494312015


ISBN 10:   1494312018
Pages:   32
Publication Date:   28 November 2013
Audience:   General/trade ,  General
Format:   Paperback
Publisher's Status:   Active
Availability:   In stock   Availability explained
We have confirmation that this item is in stock with the supplier. It will be ordered in for you and dispatched immediately.
Language:   Bengali

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"Interview with Llewelyn Pritchard Where did you grow up, and how did this influence your writing? I grew up on the Black Mountain north of Swansea, South Wales. I haven't really got a clue how this influenced my writing except I suppose, it instilled in me a great love of nature, adventure and the outdoors. I am the son of an elite collier and I would much rather take this opportunity to dedicate this great and pertinent poem to his memory: ""My father was a miner, He worked deep underground; The rush of drams and clanking chains. They were his daily sounds. He worked so far below the ground. Where coal was hewed by pick, The work so hard and wages small He didn't dare go sick. He crawled upon his belly. In drifts so low and narrow, The wind it whistled down the shaft. It chilled him to the marrow. He ate his food from a Tommy box, Shaped like a slice of bread, While squatting down upon the ground, Where spit and crumbs were shed. His water, it was in a Jack, to wet down clouds of dust, That gathered daily in his throat and lungs. Where it formed a deadly crust. We would listen for his footsteps, He then came into sight: This man, our Dad, as black as black, just like the darkest night; Right down his back white rivers ran amongst the dirt and grime, But you cannot wash away blue scars. That you get down the mine. Years now have passed. My father gone, But I am proud to say, My Father was a miner, until his dying day."" by William Holden"

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