The salt marsh wills land and sea into union, existing as a mixture of both but resisting definition of either. Tides continually reshape the landscape anew, flowing through in opaque rivers, both giving to and taking away from the dark mud, a porous substance smelling of a fecundity born from centuries of slow decay. The structure of ordinary places is ambiguous or absent here - infrastructure cannot be built, maps cannot be drawn, steps cannot be surely taken. Few plants survive a life so intimate with the sea, creating instead a long, low meadow of salt hay, luminously green then deeply golden, disorienting in its visual uniformity.