At the Tipping Point

We are at a tipping point in our relationship to nature, where the pressure of needless and unprincipled consumption finds expression in casual littering and private and commercial fly tipping in any forlorn place where sad souls can think themselves unobserved.

Living nature fights back of course and begins to reoccupy territory as soon as people retreat, but the detritus of yesteryear was not nearly so plentiful nor so resistant to biological degradation as many of the plastics of today. Every creeping tendril beside the railway viaduct on Strood Riverside seems to have its own synthetic obstacle to overcome.