This month our columnist MARTIN DOREY is flustered by the appearance of stone stacks on his local beach
Iwent for a stroll on the beach recently. The beach, which isn’t far from my house, is in a semi-wild location, a little out of town. In the summer there is a tea room that serves jam-first cream teas to hikers. There are a few cottages and shacks in the valley but it is very much the end of the road.
Looking out to sea, it’s easy to appreciate that this littoral landscape may not have changed for millions of years. Aside from the lost fishing gear and washed up bottles (thankfully not too many that day) the beach appears largely untouched by man. That’s why I love it. Last time I surfed there I was accompanied by a seal and a squadron of squawking, swirling seabirds. If I turn my back towards the land – ignoring the manmade landscape of ‘improved’ grasslands - it’s as close to nature as I’ll get.
Sadly, I was beaten to it on that day by the rock balancers. They had been busy and had managed to build a whole bunch of rock piles above the high tide mark. Some were balanced carefully, others were nothing more than stacks of flat rocks in size order, with tiny pebbles teetering on the top. Instead of seeing nature, I was confronted with a reminder of man’s presence and his annoying and narcissistic tendency to interfere. Give me strength.
I thought for a moment. Should I be infuriated by this or should I appreciate the clumsy attempts at making art in the landscape? Is it okay to mess with nature? Should I be annoyed at cave paintings too? Where does vandalism end and art begin?
