This My Hand Will Rather the Multitudinous Seas Incarnadine

After the summer sun, once the waves have had more than they can swallow, a melancholic mood looms large, wherein the floundering victims wallow. The sudden descent into silence hits harder than the outburst of noise before - because the volume alteration is accompanied by a message we choose to ignore. Empty crisp packets blow aimlessly across the void of vacuous beaches, this incisive message resounds repeatedly, but is lost on the audience it teaches. Strewn across the fields, is produce of the summer’s yield: broken buckets and spades lie dishevelled, dreaming of the sandcastles they used to build. The owner of the café passé on the pier returns to her farm for the rest of the year: hindered by the accumulation of summer commerce: the litter she has to clear. The greasy burger wrappers serve as an embodiment of what matters: the ignorance and carelessness of a hedonistic society, that leaves our world in tatters. The non-biodegradable remains of tourism and consumerism mask the countryside’s face: assorted towers of summer’s rejects distort its authentically elegant landscape. The litter is unavoidable, profit takes precedence for those in need, so we slowly tarnish our world as a consequence of greed. A murderer in the dock, society tries to conceal the facts: our fast and furious lifestyle will prevent the earth remaining intact.