A Slow Unfolding

“Landscape’s most crucial condition is considered to be space, but its deepest theme is time.” ~ Rebecca Solnit

The landscape carries clockwork that puts the clock to shame. Its second hand peels away, to be replaced by clouds of tiny flies; its minute hand runs skittering into the bushes, and minutes are instead measured in the sound of small animal rummaging for food, or a Robin yelling at a Magpie disturbing her nest; the hour hand fades and is taken by bright and dappled light, as the sun arches through the sky overhead. Even the face of the clock melts – not as a Dali clock would, but like ice melts into a river at night, so slowly you hardly realize it’s happening, and yet it’s gone in the morning.