Losing The Thread

I'm not sure of the name of this machine, but generations of mill workers in my family will have known it well. To them it signified toil inside a dark mill; to me it is a shape against the light.  I have lost the thread.

Stained Glass Window

Bottles, jars and jugs piled high against a window in Salt's Mill, Saltaire. A stained glass window of infinite variability.