The Fylde (/ˈfaɪld/) is a coastal plain in western Lancashire, England. It is roughly a 13-mile (20-kilometre) square-shaped peninsula, bounded by Morecambe Bay to the north, the Ribble estuary to the south, the Irish Sea to the west, and the Bowland hills to the east. The eastern boundary is approximately the location of the M6 motorway.
Geography
It is a flat, alluvial plain; parts were once dug for peat, and it is the western part of an area formerly known as Amounderness. The River Wyre meanders across the Fylde from Garstang on the eastern edge, westwards towards Poulton and then northwards to the sea at Fleetwood. The area north and east of the tidal Wyre, known as Over Wyre, is the more rural side of the river. The Fylde is roughly trisected by the M55 motorway and A586 road.
The west coast is almost entirely urban, containing the towns of Fleetwood, Cleveleys, Blackpool, St Annes and Lytham; with Thornton, Carleton and Poulton-le-Fylde not far inland. This area forms the Blackpool Urban Area. The central southern part of the Fylde includes the smaller towns of Kirkham and Wesham. The rest of the Fylde is rural, containing villages that include Freckleton, Warton, Wrea Green, Great Eccleston, Hambleton, Knott End and Pilling.
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The Fallout
by: Roger WatersJim: "Blimey! I...I suppose...that was it."
Hilda: "Wasn't it light?"
Jim: "Yea, terrific. You--you get terrific light with those bombs.
Listen! A dog!"
Hilda: "What does the fallout look like, dear?"
Jim: "Fallout? The government director neglected to mention what it
would look like. I expect it would look a bit like snow does, only
gray. Very quiet. I expect they're all are having a good lie-in
after the bombing."
Hilda: "Terrible smell of burning."
Jim: "Well, yes. Well there's bound to be. That's logical.
Hilda: "It's like...roast meat."
Jim: "Yes, it does. I expect everybody will be having their Sunday
dinner a bit early this week, due to the unexpected circumstances..."
Jim: "A cloud coming up. Looks like rain. We'll be alright for
water now for a while, my dear."
Hilda: "Do you think rainwater is alright to drink?"
Jim: "Well, yes, of course it is. There's nothing purer than
rainwater, is there? Everybody knows that."
Hilda: "Oh, look! My hair's coming out."
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