This particular structure is a part of huge, green and lustrous Springburn park, a place that lies in ruins. It has a skeleton but no sign of human life in it. Everyone walks by it but no one really pays any attention to it.

I wonder why? Is it because of the huge openings on the walls and nothing obstructing the vision till the horizon? Or is it because it’s caged, so it feels unapproachable?

It is drowned by its own shadows, and drenched because it has no covered roof. It is broken and untamed inside and seems inhabited by any kind. The pillars, the walls and the trusses are still intact, yet it only looks complete in the shadow it casts. It attracted me because it’s standing yet it’s unseen, it’s caged yet it’s transparent, and it’s present yet it’s lost.

It is scattered by the storms and time yet you can imagine what it hosted in its prime. The trusses indicate it had a glass roof , which can mean it was some kind of greenhouse, which seems fitting as it is part of a park. This is further confirmed by the two adjoining sheds which judging by the frames and trusses, were also most probably covered in glass. The insides are untamed and broken but still houses the dilapidated staircases that connect to the peripheral walkway so that one can view the central space from the top view.

Upon research it confirmed that it indeed was known as Springburn Winter Garden and is a category a historical site. It was built in 1900 and has a great importance to the Springburn community and its history.

I discovered a place of importance on a random journey, and wanted to share a narrative of this unseen.