Living in Wharfedale, you accumulate a sense of where the water is. Knowledge that builds like sediment. You learn from where it blows in on the wind and where it ends up. You cross over becks to get to the shops and you see the hills turn brown when it doesn’t materialise. The roads flood when the banks burst and, if you’re lucky, you see the animals that call the Wharfe their home, from little egrets and otters to sand martins and little grebes.
For this article I intended to make images that gave a sense of the water in the valley, how it arrives, where it goes, and how this same water shapes the land and the people who live upon it.