Shelter’s End

Shelter’s End A photographic shrine to brollies that lost the battle but won my heart. RIP, you soggy legends. They sheltered. They broke. They were abandoned.

I took their picture. I'm slightly obsessed.

RoarMy animal instinct — primal in print.For the wild at heart, the fierce in spirit.My nature is Serengeti.Not made for...
26/09/2025

Roar
My animal instinct — primal in print.
For the wild at heart, the fierce in spirit.
My nature is Serengeti.
Not made for monsoon or muck.
But I only ever saw rain.
Too much? Never.
I create ripples — and look good doing it.
Never changing my spots.
Never changing my pride.
I only ever saw rain...
But I had my moment in the sun.

“Roar’
From the archive: Entry No. 8 in the Abandoned Brolly Collection (ABC)

PurposePopping pink with pride.An accessory for the puddle-jumper.The splash-maker.One who embraces the rain.Just a toy,...
26/09/2025

Purpose
Popping pink with pride.
An accessory for the puddle-jumper.
The splash-maker.
One who embraces the rain.
Just a toy, in truth.
A knock-off, for sure —
But such cheer in the cheap.
Not made for a shelf life,
Just made for a happy one.
Job done.

“Purpose”
From the archive: Entry No. 7 from the Abandoned Brolly Collection (ABC)

She“Looks like a liquorice allsort”She said as she grabbed me to buy.“Bit big. Bit bright. But at least I won’t lose it....
24/09/2025

She
“Looks like a liquorice allsort”
She said as she grabbed me to buy.
“Bit big. Bit bright. But at least I won’t lose it.”
And she didn’t.
I sheltered her from every storm – for years.
Not a single drop of rain ever crossed my threshold.
She always arrived dry.
But that last tempest
proved too much
for my aging mechanisms.
Destroyed I told her to go on without me –
And she did.
“She”
From the archive: Entry No. 6 from the Abandoned Brolly Collection (ABC)

Totally ScotThis brolly was proudly a Scot,In tartan since he was a totHe stood firm in the rain,Like a Spartan in pain....
24/09/2025

Totally Scot
This brolly was proudly a Scot,
In tartan since he was a tot
He stood firm in the rain,
Like a Spartan in pain.
Now gone but never forgot.

“Totally Scot”
From the archive: Entry No. 5 from the Abandoned Brolly Collection (ABC)

LondonHopeful souvenir.Now destroyed by real-life rain.Then trash that won’t fit.“London” From the archive: Entry No. 4 ...
23/09/2025

London

Hopeful souvenir.

Now destroyed by real-life rain.

Then trash that won’t fit.

“London”
From the archive: Entry No. 4 from the Abandoned Brolly Collection (ABC)

Dotty Till the EndDotty in spirit.Dotty by design.As the shadow that once held her highwalks away,the rain still falls.S...
23/09/2025

Dotty Till the End

Dotty in spirit.
Dotty by design.

As the shadow that once held her high
walks away,
the rain still falls.
She welcomes it differently now.

If she were a dance,
she’d be the polka.

Dotty till the end.

“Dotty Till the End”

From the archive: Entry No. 3 from the Abandoned Brolly Collection (ABC)
📍 Location: Somewhere between a goodbye and a gutter

Exit Stage LeftShe knew how to stage an exit.Battered but not bowed, she found her mark in the lamplit square —a footlig...
22/09/2025

Exit Stage Left

She knew how to stage an exit.
Battered but not bowed, she found her mark in the lamplit square —
a footlight rising from the street to honour her last stand.
No audience left, just silence and shimmer.
A bench waiting in the wings. A puddle catching her reflection.
Still she bows.

"Exit Stage Left"
From the archive: Entry No. 2 in the Abandoned Brolly Collection (ABC), Circa 2012

Red Never Dies QuietlyShe’s broken, yes — but look at her still demanding the spotlight.Caught in the puddle’s mirror, a...
22/09/2025

Red Never Dies Quietly

She’s broken, yes — but look at her still demanding the spotlight.
Caught in the puddle’s mirror, arms flayed like she’s ready to dance her last number in the storm.
Resigned. Ruined. Radiant.

“Red Never Dies Quietly”
From the archive: Entry No. 1 in the Abandoned Brolly Collection, Circa 2012

22/09/2025

Welcome to Shelter’s End.
This is a photographic archive of brollies that fought the wind, lost… and still looked fabulous doing it.
Over the years, I’ve collected photos of broken umbrellas — not because I'm unwell (though the jury's out), but because they’re oddly beautiful.
Discarded. Overlooked. Slightly tragic. Occasionally hilarious.
Each one tells a story — and I’m here to tell it.
I’ll be posting a new umbrella regularly, with a little name and a caption.
If you’ve ever been defeated by weather, this page is for you.

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