
In my mother’s home state, South Carolina, ghost forests are evocative reminders of impermanence and constant change. Once nourished by fresh water, maritime forests perish after ocean tides bring saline waters into their roots.
The ghost trees are artefacts of a time passed, of conditions in flux, passing years, change and death. I found the trees’ poses haunting; lapped by waves, they are reminders of once-thriving times. When visiting family in South Carolina after a long interlude, I experienced wave after wave of flashbacks. I was surprised by tucked-away childhood memories, coming back and blending with the present. This personal experience primed me to see stories of flux in the ghost trees.
I made this photo series to connect to family and South Carolina and to explore the stories behind these artefacts of the transforming coastline with quiet, meditative images.
To some, the ghost trees are casualties of climate change - evidence of a rising ocean that brings salty waters into areas once nurtured by sweet water and rain. To others, they are shaped by normal weather and erosion processes, patterns evolving naturally without human contribution.
The narratives here are varied, like many discussions globally. How does individual experience shape our understanding of the world around us?
In my mother’s home state, South Carolina, ghost forests are evocative reminders of impermanence and constant change. Once nourished by fresh water, maritime forests perish after ocean tides bring saline waters into their roots.
The ghost trees are artefacts of a time passed, of conditions in flux, passing years, change and death. I found the trees’ poses haunting; lapped by waves, they are reminders of once-thriving times. When visiting family in South Carolina after a long interlude, I experienced wave after wave of flashbacks. I was surprised by tucked-away childhood memories, coming back and blending with the present. This personal experience primed me to see stories of flux in the ghost trees.
I made this photo series to connect to family and South Carolina and to explore the stories behind these artefacts of the transforming coastline with quiet, meditative images.
To some, the ghost trees are casualties of climate change - evidence of a rising ocean that brings salty waters into areas once nurtured by sweet water and rain. To others, they are shaped by normal weather and erosion processes, patterns evolving naturally without human contribution.
The narratives here are varied, like many discussions globally. How does individual experience shape our understanding of the world around us?
In my mother’s home state, South Carolina, ghost forests are evocative reminders of impermanence and constant change. Once nourished by fresh water, maritime forests perish after ocean tides bring saline waters into their roots.
The ghost trees are artefacts of a time passed, of conditions in flux, passing years, change and death. I found the trees’ poses haunting; lapped by waves, they are reminders of once-thriving times. When visiting family in South Carolina after a long interlude, I experienced wave after wave of flashbacks. I was surprised by tucked-away childhood memories, coming back and blending with the present. This personal experience primed me to see stories of flux in the ghost trees.
I made this photo series to connect to family and South Carolina and to explore the stories behind these artefacts of the transforming coastline with quiet, meditative images.
To some, the ghost trees are casualties of climate change - evidence of a rising ocean that brings salty waters into areas once nurtured by sweet water and rain. To others, they are shaped by normal weather and erosion processes, patterns evolving naturally without human contribution.
The narratives here are varied, like many discussions globally. How does individual experience shape our understanding of the world around us?