Extract from a talk given at the Nocturnal Land/Water and the Visual Arts Symposium at the University of Plymouth in June 2014: These pictures were made last year on the coast in Norfolk, in December and January, when the days were tilted towards midwinter solstice. In the afternoons I would walk inland along the muddy track-way, sunken between hedgerows, hawthorn, ash and blackthorn, away from the sea to find a spot to wait, to look up and make these pictures. Each day in the winter the geese take off from communal roosting sites out on the marshes or mudflats and fly inland to feed in the fields. At dawn this process is done in small family groups, but at dusk when they return, these groups conjoin to form vast skeins (the term for the formation in which they fly) formed of thousands of individuals, stretching outwards, sometimes for miles, the shape, the lines, shifting and changing. The geese have tremendous eyesight; you could try making these pictures at dawn as they fly inland to feed, but they see you, even concealed in hedgerows, hundreds of meters away and veer away. But in the evenings it becomes possible to hide in the dusk and wait. This act of waiting would involve intense concentration, a heightening of perception stemming from the straining of the eyes and ears to see or hear the first hints of the birds on the horizon as the light fades. As they fly overhead the shape of the skeins is often barely perceptible; you see not the individual birds, but the flowing shape, vaguely, as something slightly darker against the sky. The pictures were made by sound, listening for the geese flying, the cries in the darkness, the sound of wings overhead, like the rushing of water. Looking back at these pictures I realise that it was actually an unutterable experience, something that is impossible to represent properly. Looking at them I think of the cloud of geese that was sometimes on the clearer evenings just visible forming out of the horizon, the way it expanded outwards as it approached, filling the sky; a dense plane of movement, life and wild noise rushing overhead, the head filling with geese, and darkness and flux. I remember hearing a lecture by Borges (1967) talking about Walter Pater, who wrote that all art aspires to the condition of music. In music, form and substance cannot be broken apart. Melody, or any piece of music, is a pattern of sounds and pauses unwinding itself in time, a pattern that I do not suppose can be torn. The melody is merely the pattern, and the emotions it sprang from, and the emotions it awakens. In terms of the geese, there seems to me, felt intensely remembering the experience, and diluted looking at these pictures, a feeling like a tremulous pitch, rising, vibrato, pausing to consolidate or at times to drift away, a process repeated again and again until eventually it reaches a sustain of such delicate perfection that its almost impossible, a fading expression of something changing, not lost but simply finding its way, adapting, a form that's continuous, shifting with its changing environment. There is a fragment of Heraclitus thought (Kahn, 1989, p.53) which reads One cannot step twice into the same river, nor can one grasp any mortal substance in a stable condition, but it scatters and again gathers; it forms and dissolves, and approaches and departs As they step into the same rivers, other and still other waters flow upon them. The photographs that make up this series act as a metaphor for a consideration of landscape as an animated process that, like in the fragment of Heraclitus' thought, suggest form in a constant state of either becoming or disintegration. In each photograph in this typology a different pattern of flying geese is depicted, but the overall containing structure of the skein remains. When considered together as a series they express a preservation of structure within a process of flux, where a unitary form is maintained while its material embodiment constantly changes, emphasising the dynamic, fluid forces at work both culturally and physically within the term landscape.