Ages ago I took a phone camera picture (it’s just not the same as taking a real photograph) of the coast at Dunwich. The only things that seem to anchor that stretch of shore to Dunwich is the relatively jagged clifftop which doesn’t go beyond the eye in good light, and two cafes. The trouble with anchors is as much as they determine a space they are inevitably overlooked. Sizewell B provides its own landscape and challenges your eye to not be drawn into its mechanised majesty. You might even be forgiven for forgetting the wildlife that flocks through Minsmere Reserve. Its as if it is not just the water’s tides which overlap but the lands too. Albeit because we have attempted to acknowledge independent space.
It was raining and those subtle droplets made neat inconsistent dimples in the stretch of sand you sometimes get on a shingle beach just at the waters edge, low tide. The odd pebble makes itself known and stands out against its new surrounding. Lonely yet individual. With the rain the wind had caught up. Waves seemed to crash into each other before overflowing onto the shore. Past its peak in power It smoothed and slowed, never stopping but gradually ceasing before it was snatched back into the ocean by itself. And in this movement the dimples were made to look as if they had never existed. The shore looked plump and perfect, untouched, untrodden. An inconsistently curved line appeared, separating the rain speckled sand and the constantly changing space where these details had been erased.
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Details really are everything. Within an instant, like the first raindrop that then falls upon that smooth sand, something can be totally transformed. Its form is adapted and creates a new context whereupon you instinctively find a new interpretation. Change is good, the details of that change noteworthy.
Grey Cloud Blue Sea 