Havsnära

12 frames · January 2025 · Leica M11

A few years ago, when we started renovating our house, we moved for a while into a small guest cottage in Skanör. The place was not new to me, but that was when I came to know it properly.

Storms had been eating into the beach and taking bathing huts out to sea with them. It set me thinking about how people sit in a landscape — the symbols a town is known by, and the argument over whether the climate is changing at all. I wanted to show the huts in a state that is not their normal one.

One morning in January 2025, after abnormally high water, we woke to a still, foggy day, and it let me make this rather foreboding set.

The renovation, for its part, is still going on.

A line of bathing huts fading into fog, the nearest one raised on stilts above cut sand

An open-sided hut standing on four posts at the edge of the sand

A dark-roofed hut on stilts, with the rest of the row receding into fog behind it

Four huts in a row along the top of an eroded sand bank

A small hut across a washed-out dune, a lifebuoy on a post to the left

A white hut seen head on, its doors shut, the pine line faint behind it

An open-fronted hut left standing on a mound of sand

A dark hut and a distant one across flat sand, a sign leaning at the right

A dark hut behind a cut in the dune, driftwood in the foreground sand

The face of an eroded dune, roots hanging out of the exposed sand

Huts along the horizon beyond winter reeds, a fallen post in the foreground

The bare foundation frame of a hut left in the sand, the sea flat behind it