Tankerton Slopes, November #3 (2020)

Another celebration of the always-surprising subtleties of texture, tone and colour in the everyday scrub of another patch of local wild plants and grasses. As I was taking these images, I could smell the sea at my back and hear the keening of the gulls above me, and somehow the waves found themselves into my photographs anyway, with their crests of froth and spindrift.

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