Houses and gardens emerge from and dissolve back in to the shingle. It's difficult for the visitor to know if they are trespassing.

This blurriness reveals another way of observing, recording and understanding the landscape. Everything flows in to each other, public, private, natural, man-made. It encourages drifting and meandering.

Wandering back and forth from the road to the sea. Looking down at the feet, features dissolve and blur in and out of one another, nothing is defined, there are no sharp edges, nothing leaps out, gravel blurs back and forth in to shingle and pebbles, banks up and down, swirling in to deep troughs.

The shingle gets in to everything, naturally resting and settling, it has a character, a chaotic logic, filling in the cracks amongst the man-made features.

There is mimicry: Brambles sprouting and sprawling from the pebbles intertwining with and masquerading as rusted steel winching cables. Vast carpets of springy soft jade coloured lichen dissolving in to rotted carpet off cuts.

There is erosion and decay: Peeled layers of a delaminating hardboard sheet forming a stepped, terraced micro landscape. Sheets of rusted corrugated iron.

Islands of sea kale, broom and mallow. It is textural, horizontal, blurry. Everything flows through the frame, multiple photos capture a tiny snapshot of a vast sprawling, beautiful landscape. Amorphous, layered, chaotic.

Photography ©Andrew Durham 2017.