I live very near to Davidstow Moor airfield. It’s not a working airfield these days; more a flat and high altitude set of remnants of one, with some current usage by hobbyist model aircraft and microlight flyers, learner drivers and some more umm… different hanging about in less social hours.
The airfield played an active part in WW11 though, earlier as the base for some bombing raids over the submarine pens of northern France and then patrol and air sea rescue missions over the Bay of Biscay and approaches to the English and Bristol channels. At the end of the war the military usage ceased and it briefly become a motor racing circuit. There are a couple of museums nearby with artefacts and articles telling the stories more fulsomely.
Wartime airfields were, by necessity, in otherwise pretty windswept, desolate and sparse places. Long time abandoned ones seem to have left with even more of that crumbling air. There is a flying club up there, making use of some parts of the old concrete runways, and huddling in the end of one of the buildings, but otherwise there is a sense that it is just a place to let some sheep roam about while the history and the buildings around it are gradually falling down, graffitied, littered and abused.
Anyway, I went up there to explore and take some pictures, hoping to capture the atmosphere of the abandonment. I had deliberately waited for a grey and threatening day for the moody light it gives but to be honest, it’s pretty bleak even in full sunshine.
A long way from my usual landscapes of the gorgeous countryside around here but a good reminder that this Cornwall, home to 400,000 people all year but hosting 4 million in the high tourist season, has a core that is only left to decline and rot, even while the visitors have been enjoying all the pretty places from on the telly.