🌊🌾 A mere heap of sand is nothing enduring. No memory – only wind, rain, and tides carry it onward. For something to remain, it needs life that grasps it, holds it, gathers it – like the marram grass that forms the first embryonic dunes. The birth of new life, when the horizon rises and is eventually crowned with white dunes. From up there, one can see far and wide how life and death make fertile land thrive. The dunes turn grey, then brown, and the diversity of life marks each of these hills that, without an initial impulse, would never have been more than a fleeting mineral in the wind.

🌲🌳 Amid shrubs, pines, and bog birch forests, one quickly forgets that all this soil was washed ashore by the sea and carried to this place by the wind. One looks out over endless salt marshes, over reeds and the Wadden Sea, whose tidal creeks meander deep into the newly formed land. And far on the horizon, on the other side beyond the dunes, one sees a solitary hill – a warft – where humans made this world their own, found refuge, and fed their livestock on the salty meadows.

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