ditchingham maltings | there but for the grace of god

"Chicken Roundabout" was well named. A flock (although "squadron" is a more fitting description) of roosters and hens furiously ranged each quarter of the road intersection. Their incessent squawking, squabbling and crowing provided a constant aural backdrop to our cautious ferreting around the internals of the Maltings. It gave this industrial wreck a curious rural feel. A tangible example of natural reclamation.

Local rumour suggested the chickens were feeding from the remaining stock of grain stored at the plant. There might be a germ of truth here, but any grain had long gone and these feral chickens were now constantly scratching the ground for grubs.