Thursday 2nd January 2020, 10:43am
Sand constantly being overwritten.
Extension from an idea on the 24th:
I’m now consciously not looking at my watch. The wind pulls at my hair, tugging it from behind my ears. I look closely at the sand near my elbow, grains of orange, clear, beige, brown, black, white make up the yellowy-sandy beachscape.
I wonder at the random distribution of all these gains, how come by chance there are not areas darker, lighter, oranger? Their mix makes such a uniform ground, in colour. The foot falls of today’s movements are in the crests and troughs overwritten daily by newcomers, or locals, people who used to live here or come here often and people from the furthest distances.
Each persons’ presence is inscribed in the sand’s malleable surface, a surface which constantly changes visibly with the winds and water creeping up and back at each tide.
(Not quite the photo for this) I took a few film photos but may film people feet walking through across the sand. GC